Chapter Text
It was raining, not badly, but enough that it left Frisk feeling a chill through the wedding dress she wore beneath the only protection of the tree's canopy. Well, she supposed there was one advantage at least, if anyone happened by they wouldn’t be able to tell she had been crying.
She sniffled and held a hand up to cover her eyes.
Okay, they wouldn’t be able to tell she was still crying.
With a huff she looked up through the downpour, and her mahogany eyes landed on the imposing height of the clocktower in the distance as it struck six.
“They’re going to be so angry…” She muttered numbly.
“knock knock.”
Frisk jumped, her dress ruffling loudly as she spun in place at the unexpected voice. It was so deep and reverberating it sounded almost inhuman. She squinted her eyes as she continued to search for the source before freezing in place.
There was a dark figure obscured by the growing darkness and rain, just barely concealed by the shade of the only other elm tree in the garden she’d found refuge in. It seemed the height of a man but it’s broadness made her mouth run dry.
“W-who’s there…?” She tried not to let her voice waver, but it was so difficult as she trembled. What had she been thinking? She was female, alone, a prime target if someone wanted to rob her...or worse.
This side of the city wasn’t known for being safe.
“accordion.”
She watched the figure shift as the voice answered but she couldn’t bring herself to be anything but silent as she stared at it cautiously. Holding her breath she gripped the skirt of her dress and tried to think of a reply but nothing came. After a pause her mysterious companion moved, making her spine go rigid and shoulders tense as they stepped forward.
“you’re supposed to say, ‘accordion who?’.”
The words didn’t register at first, her heart had started to race so quickly she could only hear the rushing of her blood as her eyes widened in shock at the stranger’s presence. Frisk had heard tales of mythical beings and creatures of the night before, but to see one in person left her very being quaking fearfully.
Until she looked into its eyes.
Two void black sockets, each housing a cyan blue iris with equally dark pupils. They drew her in with how they brightened at her gaze and mesmerized her with the way they slightly expanded, as if they were more reminiscent of light than actual matter like her own. Her cheeks heated up in a prominent blush, they were one of the most beautiful sights she’d ever seen in her life and something about them...made her relax.
Curiously she took in the rest of their master, her eyes panning over a dapper and neatly pressed outfit that she could tell was expensive; a long black coat made of fine fibers easily resisted what little rain fell on it and it’s golden lining shimmered as the moon’s light gently caressed it while right beneath it rested a vest of soft blue silk.
Her eyes slowly lowered as she took in the white lace jabot around his neck that housed a vibrant blue jewel at its center, and the finely hemmed white pleated pants he wore right before stopping at the black winged shoes that shone with what looked to be high quality polish despite the mud they were forced to stand in.
Swallowing thickly Frisk forced her gaze back up to be met with a wide lackadaisical grin, set against the backdrop of a stark white skull.
She was staring at a living skeleton.
“I...I’m…” She tried to force an apology, no a plea, something, but the moment her eyes honed in on the creature’s unwavering stare all words failed her. It was as if the very air had been stolen from her and all she wanted was to keep looking into his gaze.
He chuckled, seemingly unperturbed by how speechless she was, and unbothered by her sudden attention. “mind if i join you?”
Shyness suddenly overcame her.
He was asking so politely, like a normal gentleman. It disarmed her, and slowly her heart started to calm down. Glancing away she nervously tucked a lock of hair behind her ear before she offered a simple nod. He couldn’t be so bad if he had manners could he? Not when legends told of how such beings could dispose of unaware women like her without notice.
Frisk tried not to look as she felt him occupy the rest of the stone bench beside her.
He was so close to her.
She dared to peer at him from the corner of her eye, watching the very subtle way his chest shifted as if he was breathing before once more being drawn up to his face.
The blue in his sockets shifted to meet her and Frisk quickly looked away again.
“why don’t you see owls being amorous in the rain?” Her breathing went short and her blush deepened as she sharply looked at him.
That sounded so lewd!
He only continued to smile at her accusative stare as his sockets lidded while he waited for a response. Frisk suddenly felt ridiculous, he was a skeleton, maybe she was just assuming something she shouldn’t be, and it sounded like he was trying to tell her a joke? Had that been what he was doing earlier?
Against her better judgement she answered him. “Um...why?”
The skeleton’s grin lifted higher in the corners. “because it’s too wet to woo.”
She stared at him in shock before trying to cover her snort with a hand. “That...That’s awful!”
His eyelights brightened.
“why do cows lie down in the rain?”
She raised a brow.
“Why?”
“to keep each udder dry.”
Frisk lost it.
She bent over trying to cover her mouth as she gripped the side of the bench, but her laughter and ugly snorting were too loud. The jokes weren’t that funny, she knew they weren’t, but in her sadness they were hilarious and her once salty and bitter tears now came out full of joy and amusement. Her guest didn’t speak a single word the whole time she carried on, only watched her with a satisfied grin that grew with each undignified gasp and strained wail.
Eventually, her humor faded and silence fell between them.
The last thing Frisk had expected meeting this skeleton was a series of jokes. He didn’t seem to want to harm her, so she tried to return his kindness. Hesitantly she glanced down at her shoes and back to him.
It felt right to introduce herself.
“I...I’m Frisk, Frisk Adley, by the way.”
He didn’t react, but somehow it felt like he was pleased as he turned to face her better and offered his hand, gloved in white satin, and slightly larger than her own. He didn’t say anything or move as she carefully slipped her hold into his, marveling at how warm it felt against her chilled skin. She jolted but didn’t pull back as he lifted it to his teeth and pressed against it in the mock form of a kiss, a slightly glimmering fang showing in the corner of his grin that hadn’t been there before as he peered at her through one socket.
“sans, sans de nocturné.”
Frisk sucked in a breath, very rarely had she been greeted in such a way that the fact he lacked lips didn’t even register as she blushed from the shells of her ears to the tops of her shoulders. She was so flustered she hadn’t even realized he was still holding her hand and that both of his sockets had opened to watch her. With an embarrassed flinch she took her hand back and buried it in her skirt. “N-nice to meet you Mr. Nocturné.”
His chuckle was warm and deep. “please call me sans.”
Silence lapsed between them again but it wasn’t uncomfortable, if anything Frisk felt more at ease. It was one of those mutual moments shared between two people who simply wanted to enjoy the presence of another and she was quickly enjoying it. It was surprising how much just being around another person soothed her.
“do you want to talk about it?”
Frisk swallowed and carefully took in his expression; it wasn’t particularly curious, nor was it forceful like she expected one might be when prying with such a question. But it wasn’t difficult to figure out the kind of situation she’d been involved in, all he needed to do was guess and he’d know. Why else would she be wearing a wedding dress? But he was being kind enough not to assume, he was asking, and Sans looked concerned more than anything.
At least that’s what she thought the look in those pulsing eyelights meant, it was hard to read his supernatural features.
“Do you honestly want to know?”
His sockets creased and this time she could tell he was amused. “only if you wish to tell me.”
She shuddered and swallowed around a lump in her throat.
“I um...just broke off an engagement.”
Frisk could feel it as Sans’s eyelights panned her form, their trail lingering and tracing in a manner that had her heart racing in her chest as they loomed over the disarray and brushed against the slight tears at the hem in their assessment.
He smiled benignly as he brought them back up to her face.
“something tells me that’s mint as an understatement.” She smiled weakly at the pun. It was worthy of a chuckle but she couldn’t seem to form it with the sudden weight she felt on her shoulders.
“...You caught me...the truth is, I was in an arranged marriage with a man I didn’t love.”
Sans hummed thoughtfully.
“i wasn’t aware that arranged marriages were still popular.”
“It was political. At least that’s what my family always told me, but they never specified in what way. Truthfully I think it had more to do with money.” Frisk sniffed to keep the tears from pouring anew. Her companion looked out through the falling drudge as she tried to compose herself. It was a small kindness but one she appreciated nonetheless.
When he finally glanced back over his tone was quieter than it’d been the whole time they’d been speaking. “have you told your family you don’t want this? are they looking for you?”
Frisk stared at her feet.
“They most likely are, but I’m not going back if I can help it. They’ve already said there’s no breaking off this marriage, I’ve already tried. Though I would be amazed anyone would want to marry me after I ran off like I did, it was very improper.”
The quiet came back but this time she found no comfort. Frisk was uneasy, her thoughts all circling back to when she’d first stepped out onto the red wedding carpet and the looks of both adoration and praise she’d received.
They’d felt so fake, so false, like masks covering up pity and distress.
Not once in her two year engagement had it felt real. The whole arrangement had felt like a joke, one that would never be realized the longer it went on, the more her fiancé tried and failed each time to charm and impress her.
It hadn’t felt real until that morning.
When the man she was expected to spend her life with had brought her flowers and she’d made a comment about tradition stating he wasn’t supposed to see her before it was time.
He must’ve had an endless well of patience that had finally run dry, or he had gotten careless and secure with how close they were to being tied together that his true nature had shown. Because Frisk had never seen such a cruel sneer as when he’d thrown the bouquet against her wall, and she’d never heard his voice get so loud as it had when the vase shattered as he’d punched her makeup mirror.
He had terrified her.
Maybe, she supposed, she had overreacted to his outburst. Everyone had a breaking point, and she must’ve come across so distant and callous the whole time he’d spent trying to win her favor and heart.
“Truthfully, I suppose he wasn’t a bad man.” Frisk remarked absently, but she couldn’t forget how it felt, how something deep inside her had told her to run the moment she’d stepped into the aisle. Her hand inched up and rested faintly against the necklace that hung around her neck. It’s sapphire hue hidden beneath her touch, just as her fiancé’s temperament had been hidden behind strained glances and weary greetings.
“He even brought me this necklace the night I was told of our arrangement, beautiful isn’t it?”
A soft touch caressed her face and she nearly fell over in surprise, only managing to keep from tumbling to the ground as an arm curled around her waist to steady her against a firm chest. She squeaked as she realized Sans was holding her, but the gentle coxing of his hand on her cheek tilted her gaze up to meet his, and her breathing turned short at the way his eyelights flared like a cosmic storm in how they surrounded her thoughts.
They stole every negative feeling and left her empty and trembling.
Frisk was completely at Sans’ mercy.
His voice came out a whisper, as if he was gracing her with a secret that could tip the scales of existence themselves. “anyone who’d turn such a beautiful woman to tears with little care, deserves no one, and only a fool wouldn’t wish to marry such a strong person, that knows when to say no.”
Slowly his hand moved down, sparks of sensation prickling her skin in his passing the further he ghosted against her, and paused right as she felt her heart had leapt up into her throat with her mind just verging on the edge of non-existence.
A bony finger, a single phalange, crooked up underneath her necklace’s band.
Sans smirked before giving a swift yet tender jerk, and a snap so quick, yet so small, echoed.
Frisk’s mouth opened in a muted cry as the sapphire fell between them, leaving behind a bitter chill on her newly bared throat. She shook and marveled at how refreshing it felt after having worn the piece of jewelry for so long. It was as if Sans had severed the chain that bound her to her despair with barely a touch, and she was humbled by it.
“Sans…”
His thumb carefully, reverently, brushed along her bottom lip, glided down to her chin, and turned her head just enough she didn’t even notice until he leaned in and down, pressing his grin to her delicate neck right above where her pulse thundered.
Frisk’s eyes widened at the forward gesture. “Um wait-”
There was a sudden and sharp pain, and then a numbness...it gradually got harder to keep her eyes open and she went slack in his hold. Vaguely she felt his arms both encircle and cradle her against him, his body heat becoming hotter the colder she turned as he let out a growl that prickled her skin.
Her vision darkened on the edges.
Just before her lids fluttered shut she saw Sans’s blurry outline as he pulled back, his striking blue eyelights the only clear thing she could see as she felt a hand twine and run through her hair. It felt so reassuring even as her heart weakened and slowed.
“shh, you’ve worried enough, just rest.”
A peaceful darkness consumed her.
~~
The young man gasped as he struggled for air, his hands clenched tightly in his pants as he hunched over with sweat dripping from his brow.
He’d run for hours trying to find her and finally he’d gotten a lead from an elder in passing that his young bride was last seen in a garden not too far from the docks. However as he stood to his full height he could only feel a weight in his chest.
Where he stood was the end of the houses lining the street right before the harbor, and as far as he could see there wasn’t a single sign of his fiancé among any of the flowers or trees. With an exasperated cry he collapsed on the nearest bench and hung his head in his hands tiredly. He’d messed up by shouting at her like he had, he never should’ve taken out years of repression against her.
What if she had been kidnapped or killed-
His thoughts cut short as moonlight glinted off of something just a few feet from him buried within a small patch of buttercups.
Holding his breath he leaned over until he fell to his knees and reached out with a shaky hand. Trembling, he pulled free the shining sapphire necklace and stared at it. The band that had held it was snapped, as if it had been ripped apart forcefully, and the gem itself was clouded and cracked along the right side. It was clearly thrown away hastily and was violently abused by the neglectful action.
...Had she done this? Had she thrown it away with the same crass and indifference with which she had treated him for so long?
He gripped it firmly to his chest as hate slowly filled his eyes, and when he said her name, he uttered it like a curse upon his tongue.
“Frisk.”