Chapter Text
Noelle had been a church-goer ever since she was able to walk, way back when Carol used to hold her during Church sermons. When she'd hold Noelle's hand and guide her focus towards the books located on the pew's book holders. Though it quickly became apparent to Carol that Noelle was more interested in the hymns than the missals. She'd learn the lines, pour her heart out into them, and seem happier during the melodic parts. Or at least, in Carol's eyes she did.
Noelle didn't really enjoy the hymns, but she'd learnt the lyrics for the sole reason that Carol praised her for it. Then others began to praise how well she sang, how they were certain she'd go places with her voice, how she took after her mother. Not literally, Carol didn't sing. Just happened to be part of her name. Made Carol smile, pat Noelle on the head, and acknowledge her as her daughter. As for Noelle, even if she didn't like the hymns, she had a genuine passion for singing. Didn't matter much as to whether the style fit her or not, she liked choir—liked singing in itself enough to continue.
Though after Dess went missing, Noelle tried to figure out what she liked. Dess would always ask her what she wanted to do, would prioritize Noelle as a being, would see Noelle as a person. Didn't take until Dess' disappearance for Noelle to finally question all of it on her own. What did she like? How much of it was influenced? What places, and what kinds of people did she like? She couldn't say. Didn't think she deserved to be picky, everytime she tried to think of what kind of person she disliked—Berdly—she immediately felt guilty. His weirdness? "N'aw... he's just... lonely." His forced pride? "I wish I could pretend to be confident—" a pause as she thought about it, "—or maybe not, I wouldn't be liked anymore." Then she thought about that. What would Dess have said? Probably would've ruffled her hair and told her to stop being silly. That being herself was okay, even if she needed to boost herself sometimes. Noelle shook her head, then slumped onto her bed.
"I haven't written a diary entry today..." Not that she felt like getting up though, not now. She wasn't fully truthful in her diary, anyway. The fear that her mother would see it someday made her write entries like, "Mother yelled at me again today, but I'm sure she was just overwhelmed from work! I'll bake her gingerbreads when she's back tomorrow..." or, "Asgore was kind to me—sometimes he reminds me of Dess or Azzy... ah, but Mother was like that too. I miss her." While they were truthful to some extent, she didn't feel like she could fully write anything without being nice to Carol. Just incase. She did have a few truthful diaries, but they were as hidden as possible.
The more Noelle tried to figure out what she liked, the more she felt like she was straying from her Mother—and from God themself. She tried goth for Catti and found that she enjoyed it, to such a degree that she'd memorized every band and every song Catti showed her. She could play the melodies by sound, could sing to it and loop them for hours on end, could name each instrument playing with each specific chord. Went as far as to learning how to play the bass, and violin alongside it in order to be able to play something at home. Carol didn't comment on her achievements anymore, not after she'd grown up, but Noelle could tell that her mother atleast approved of the violin. She'd slip a smile sometimes, or she'd linger for longer than usual. Should've made her happy, instead she just felt bitter. Carol didn't speak to her anymore, and her learning the violin felt like a pathetic attempt at getting her attention regardless of how much she tried to convince herself that she liked it. She really thought she did, but the way Carol would act was always her priority. Would she like the song she played that day? Or would she walk away? Back to square one.
Noelle knew she liked goth fashion, knew she liked the music and the bass. Did she like violin? Decided not to dwell on it, instead she decided to figure out the kinds of places she liked. Usually she'd avoid staying out for too long, but she was desperate to figure out some part of herself. Dess would've—she herself will like it. With her diary and a camera in hand, she set off. Considered running around but people knew who she was. What if she made a fool of her mother? Or if she tripped, and her mother had to waste time on her to ask what happened? She settled for speedwalking. Relatively safer, even if she wanted to rebel a little bit she decided those matters were better in private—not where everyone could see.
While she walked around town, she got greeted a few times; all felt shallow. They were only greeting her because she was the Mayor's child, not because she was Noelle. Realized her words were just as fake as theirs. She didn't like that, wished the greetings could be real and genuine. Then she was jealous of Kris, they barely spoke but everyone greeted Kris warmly. Maybe that was because of Asriel? Or maybe they were just more likeable? Not that she was upset about that, but she was upset that people didn't seem to like her as much. Well, that wasn't the point anyway. She continued to walk through the town, reaching a picnic area with water. Two lovey-dovey looking guards were there, and for a second she imagined them as herself and Susie. She smiled at them, then sat by the riverside and snapped a picture. She pulled out her diary, and began to write;
"A different type of entry today.
This place reminds me of Dess, the autumn leaves always suited her.
The benches remind me of the picnic we had with Kris and Asriel, also reminds me of how Dess yelled at Kris for turning their waffle into a spider and trying to scare me with it. I was scared back then, but it was a little creative, haha!
...The river feels like me. I like it. The river is quiet, and alone, but it carries stories and hears passerbys. No one pays any mind to it, but it will always be here.
Will I always be here?
...I wish Dess was always here. I miss Dess.
Anyway! Off to my next adventure. I wonder if I'd be missed if I were to go missing? Ah... what am I writing, haha. Maybe I'm tired."
Noelle awkwardly put the diary away, and remembered Asgore owned a store. Something about flowers, flowers would look nice as bookmarks... and seeing Mr.Dreemurr wouldn't hurt, right? With that thought in mind, she set off once again—last place for the day. Noelle didn't know the time, but it was still bright enough for Carol to not be home. It'd be okay. Despite the self-comfort, she still found herself sprinting aimlessly, forgetting that she didn't entirely know where Asgore's store was aside from vague mentions. Made her feel melancholic. She'd grown up in the town, her mother was the Mayor, yet she didn't know where everything was. Didn't explore much, didn't have many friends, wasn't really memorable. She didn't like that, didn't like the idea of being alone—of being forgotten. The church-goers would never forget her, not when they still reminded her about choi—
By the time she arrived at the shop, her brows were furrowed in thought. Why did her mind keep going back to church? She didn't think she liked it, so why did everything connect to it? She liked the people, so why wasn't she just thinking about the people? Why was it the fact that they go to church? Why was it the choir, and not whatever else people spoke about? ...Must be because she's never spoken to by them. Not unless it's about church.
"Noelle...? Good afternoon, it's nice to see you... but what are you doing here?" Noelle didn't even realize she'd bumped into Asgore like a klutz, feeling embarrassed until she realized his paw was on her head. Not that he realized that either, it was instinctual as a father. Then she just laughed, stepping back almost immediately. "S-Sorry, I was distracted... I wanted a flower for a bookmark." The smile Asgore gave her made her feel nauseous. She knew she had a good life, but Kris' parents were so kind that it almost felt suffocating. Sometimes she felt jealous that Kris' father could spend time with them, but then she'd remember Asgore and Toriel were divorced, and she'd feel guilty for ever being jealous about it. Still felt jealous of their parents, still wished her mother could be like one of them.
"A bookmark?" Asgore replied, thinking about a flower that would suit Noelle. He walked her around the store for a moment while he thought, making small talk while he did. He knew she barely left the house, felt bad about it really. "Ah—I think an amarylis would suit you." Noelle tilted her head, what the hell was an amarylis? "An... amarylis?" Asgore nodded, "They symbolize strength. You don't leave the house often... must've taken some courage, did it not?" A pause, Noelle didn't really think about that. She liked the idea of being courageous, but before she could reply Asgore was already spewing another flower—probably assuming she didn't like it. "Or—or a dahlia. They symbolize kindness... and inner strength." Noelle snorted, but then she felt guilty. Flowers were wonderful, and being compared to them made her feel special. Flowers were gorgeous to look at, but hard to take care of. Was she even worth the effort of growing a flower?
...She would ponder on that later. In the present, she picked the dahlia; felt bad when Asgore gave it to her for free. Didn't accept her trying to pay or ask for chores or help either, not now anyway. Not when she clearly seemed distressed by something.
The entire way home, she stared at the dahlia in her hooved hand like it was otherworldly. Like it deserved more than she did, like it was more special than her. Then a thought occured to her. "Oh... what if I named you Coraline?" She knew she was pathetic, naming a flower. Speaking to something that couldn't talk. It was the first horror movie she'd watched with Dess, the other mother made her feel oddly comforted. During the first half, she always fantasized about having that mother—and when the other mother got 'bad'? It made her feel better about her own. She definitely liked this flower.