《 My Sweet Dream 》~ || Frans & Papara Oneshots ||

✿Ten ~ Royal Mischief✿

• Princess! Frisk x Sans •
• ~ ANGST ~ •

I just randomly got this idea... basically Frisk is a princess (alongside the moody princess Chara and sweet prince Asriel, her siblings)
and Sans is her secret lover from the village. Being royalty and all, her parents (King Asgore and Queen Toriel) want her to marry royal blood. But of course, she wants to be with Sans.

✿ Enjoy~ ✿

♥︎ Frisk's P.O.V. ♥︎

I stepped out onto the balcony, the sky a background to the view of my kingdom. Monsters now roamed freely about the village, peace finally secure between the two races.
I placed my hands against the quartz railing. The wind was light, rustling my short, chestnut brown hair. Mother would tell me it's important to keep appearances, but I couldn't be bothered with that right now.
I had to find him.
Still, in order to maintain the image of being a humble and all-serving princess, I occasionally raised a hand to wave at those who passed.

"Frisk?" I flinched, torn from my search.
"Yes!" I promptly spun around. It was my sister, Chara, who was surprisingly wearing a dress for once.
It wasn't much, which was expected. It was a simple, pale green dress. No flowers, no ruffles, not even any lace.
I took her hands into mine. "You look lovely, Chara! What do you need?" She faltered, the hue of her cheeks deepening.
"Mom is calling for you." A frown itched at the corners of my lips.
"Okay, thank you." She nodded, then walked by me. She took my place on the balcony, crimson eyes trailing the rooftops and scanning the crowds.

I prayed my worry wasn't evident. Besides the constant grasping at the end of my gown and the sweat on my brow, I'd say I was doing a pretty good job a masking it.
The door to the main room was enormous, constructed of dark wood and curly iron.
It always intimated me, the power behind those doors. I could easily be cast out, or sent to the cellar. I could disappear without a trace. Due to my level of importance there would likely be questioning, but it would soon die out. Just as everything does.
I lay a gloved hand on the door, hesitating, considering fleeing.

What if she knows about him? Mother never has me called in unless it's serious, and that would be serious. I don't even want to think of how heavily I'll be reprimanded if she found out.
I shook my head. There was no use fretting, either way this conversation was going to happen, no matter if I came willingly or was dragged in by the guards.
I pushed the doors open, immediately met with vivid red carpet and sunlight. I straightened up, taking in a huge breath of air before walking in. I was sure to not stumble or utter a single word until I made it to the thrones.
I curtsied. "Evening, mother, father, I was informed of your call," I said politely, a practiced smile drawn on my face.
The thrones were placed at the top of a set velvet steps. The floors were polished quartz, thoroughly reflecting the sun. Photographs of our family adorned the walls, dressed in frames of chiseled gold.
My mother, queen Toriel, was tending to a pot of golden flowers. She'd heard me enter, and set down the watering can to send a smile my way. My father, king Asgore, had been looking to the skies from the window behind them, his violet cape a pool at his heels. Upon hearing my voice, he turned to me and beamed.
      "Frisk, dear! I haven't seen you all morning! How has the day been treating you?" I finally raised my head, maintaining my posture and expression.
     "Quite well, father." I didn't want to have a conversation, I just wanted to get this over with. "Mother, Chara came for me. Is something the matter?" I asked. Don't tremble, don't stutter, don't imply.
      "Oh! Yes! Nothing's the matter, but there is something I must bring up," Toriel said, and I repressed a sigh as she came forth, standing beside Asgore and placing both hands on his shoulders. "I believe it's time you began searching for a partner, a prince, to be specific."
My heart near stopped. I couldn't stop myself from slightly stumbling, losing my footing and moving three messy steps forward. I regained my posture in a matter of seconds, however, that rehearsed grin present as if it had never left.
They noticed me trip, the both of them looking rather concerned.
Don't tremble, don't stutter, don't imply.
"Pardon me, mother and father, I'm embarrassed to say that caught me off guard." I kept my hands behind my back, quivering and fumbling together.
Toriel, thank goodness, only laughed heartedly at my words. "Perfectly normal, dear, it is a lot to take in. I am always here to assist you in your choosing, if needed."
I need to get out of here. The shaking was gradually spreading throughout my body, refusing to stay limited to my hands. There were so many a breaths I was holding in, I felt as if I may collapse.
"T-thank you, mother." There was a harsh sting growing behind my eyes, a sensation that only filled me with dread. Tears made no sense in this situation. She asked me to find a suitor, a simple task, and as a result I begin to cry. There are only so many reasons a girl would unwillingly allow drops to fall at the idea of being betrothed to another.
I had to go see him, now. I needed him to hold me, to tell me everything was going to be okay. That I wasn't going to be handed down like an object, that I had a choice, that we could be together.
"That is all, Frisk. Feel free to process, you don't have to make a decision right away." Asgore's soft voice is kind, and I'm incredibly grateful for the gift of temporary freedom. I bow in obeisance and hope it's not obvious that I'm close to sprinting from the throne room, used to the act of rushing in tall heels.
     I bolt to my room, my tears free to fall as nobody will likely see them due to my pace. The moment I'm alone I break down, falling to the floor in staggered breaths. My fingers sink into my hair, gripping a handful of the chestnut strands to direct the pain somewhere else, to keep the scream that dared to rip itself from my lips at bay. Beads of the salty liquid run down my cheeks like a stampede of emotions, likely leaving streaks and dotting the fabric of my dress.
     What was I to do? I couldn't run from this, not from my family who've done so much for me. I couldn't help but feel selfish, ignoring the rules set by my family and finding love in someone far below the expected standard. Perhaps I deserved this, to suffer for my actions, to be sold off to some prince who'll never love me for who I am. I wish in vain, praying for a miracle or even brief peace of mind.

     It's then that I hear a light tap against my window. Then another.
     Hurriedly, I comb my fingers through my hair to reverse what had become a frazzled mess before standing and walking to the window as casually as I could manage.
      Sans stood a few feet below the window, grinning the moment I met him eyes. In his hand was a small pile of pebbles.
      I unlocked the window and pushed it open. The weather was relatively the same as the morning I spent on the balcony, light wind, loud birds.
      "Hey." I smiled wearily, because even though I'd been craving this moment, my mother's words were on repeat in the back of my head, blaring.
      I heard her voice say something different now, though. Is this who you waste your time on? A mere, common monster?
      I know mother would never speak ill of her subjects, but her eyes do it well enough for her. The narrowing, the slight flare. It's enough to drop me to my knees.
     "Is that how you're going to greet me? I feel as your boyfriend I deserve something with a bit more emotion," he jokes and my heart swells painfully. I'm going to lose this. I'm going to lose him.
      Sans is worth more to me than my own life. No meager prince can replace him. Prince, is just a title, a brand that claims you're worthy of praise and gold and only the highest of standards.
     Without this crown, what am I? What are any of us?
     "Frisk? Are you okay?" I snap out of it. He doesn't need to know what just happened, how we're to be separated the moment I'm wed.
      "Everything's fine. Step back, I'm coming down." He does and I kick off my heels and remove my crown. I'd fancy them in a trash bin, but what's the point in creating controversy when what's to happen is already set in stone? I've never had any say in the events of my life.
     With a firm shake of my head, I block out any negative thoughts and slip out the window. I'm then enveloped in a blue light and fall gracefully into his arms.
     "Evening, your majesty."
     Don't call me that, I want to say, but instead I trap the bitter words under my tongue and giggle instead, pulling him in for a quick kiss.
     "How was your day?" I ask, threading our hands and allowing him to lead us to our little hideaway.
     We discovered it one day when I snuck out of the castle under the guise of a villager. It's a garden not too far from either of our homes. Secluded, perfect.
     "Better now that I'm with you." Sans pulls me through the thick foliage, dodging newly bloomed flowers that poke out of the ground. There's an open area in our secret, where the bushes grow low enough for us to sit and stare into the clouds.
     I kiss him again once we're seated, my arms wrapped around his neck.
     "Someone's feeling frisky. What's the occasion?"
     Oh nothing, I'm just going to have to get married and give up the last ounce of my freedom.
     Instead I say: "I missed you. I feel that as your girlfriend I don't need to explain myself when I decide to kiss you." My tone is falsely flirtatious, but throughout my life I've learned to hide, to pretend, to push my real feelings down.
     Sans, frustratingly, has always been good at spotting whenever I lie. He pulls away, and I know I'm caught.
     "Frisk. Tell me what really going on." The tears come automatically, tumbling from my eyes as if they'd been on the brink for years.
      I tell him. I tell him that I'm going to have to choose a suitor, that my time I normally spend in his arms will be greedily eaten up as I'm dragged off to planned dates. Dates in expensive carriages where he'll offer me necklaces  in attempt to buy my affections as if I'm some vending machine. I tell him I'll spend the rest of my days as an accessory, programmed to smile and wave and attend at balls hosted by other kingdoms.
     I'm not sure if I make much sense as I explain, because I'm frequently choking on tears and my face in buried in his shoulder.
     Even so, he whispers that it's okay, he pecks my cheek and tells me that we have now, that maybe there's a way out of this because there always is.
     I nod and say that he's right, that I believe everything could and may turn out okay.
     But I leave out the fact that I don't.

~~~~~~~~~🖤~~~~~~~~~

Probably the last oneshot in this book XD. I don't plan on going back to this, and my ideas are running thin.
Plus, I just don't want to write in this book anymore, I have other things to focus on.
Thanks for reading!! Xoxo