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Excited feet stamped down the yellow hallway as Frisk raced down towards her parent’s room. In an instant she was at the foot of their bed, jumping up and down on the mattress. The springs complained loudly as the two retired monarchs groggily opened their eyes.
With a tired, yet happy, smile, Toriel said, “Good morning, my child. You are up early.” Frisk merely nodded, too excited for words just yet. Asgore let out a deep yawn as he rolled in the sheets again, somewhat reluctant to get up so soon. “Go and get your presents ready, Frisk. We’ll be out soon to join you and then we can open our gifts.”
Without a second thought, Frisk was back down the hallway in a flash. Toriel looked at the ajar door fondly, giggling as she looked over at Asgore. She shook the old oaf she called a husband, though not to much effect. He merely grumbled as he tried to sink deeper into the sheets. “Come on Mr. Clause, you don’t want to keep Frisk waiting, do you?” She chuckled as he slowly got up, the queen giving him a small kiss on the cheek for motivation.
~~~
The Dreemurr family tree has always been a regal, yet simple display. Asgore had always found a tree that would always fit perfectly in living room, never too tall or too short. The spruce sat about a foot taller than Asgore, its limbs carrying the heavy burden of the many ornaments the monsters had gained over the ages. Most of the twinkling decorations were handmade, either as gifts or fun activities the two used to do with Asriel and Chara. If they weren’t homemade they were antique, or ‘vintage’ according to Undyne, and made of metal or glass, with shiny steel or silver snowflakes or glass icicles that hung and reflected the light about the tree. Simple white lights were strewn about the tree until a final one sat just below the delta rune claden gold star at the top, an heirloom that had been passed down Asgore’s family for longer than anyone could fathom.
Frisk sat under said tree, trying to figure out which present she should open first. A small stack of ribbon laden gifts sat under the tree, most of which were for Frisk. She looked up as the goats stepped into the room, Asgore’s mane and beard unkempt and still in his pyjamas, and Toriel’s little head-fluff going in every which way.
The presents were divided amongst the three before the sound of tearing paper and unwrapping of ribbon filled the previously quiet house. An unruly stack of red, white and green paper grew up next to Frisk as she went from gift to gift, thanking her parents for every little thing she got. Story books from Toriel, comics from Asgore, and little knick knacks and toys from the two of them. The monarchs were happy with the simple homemade gifts Frisk had made for them, as well as the small little presents they had gotten for each other.
After the presents were all unearthed and accounted for, the family stood up and smiled. Frisk suddenly began to giggle. She pointed above them, where a small bundle of mistletoe hung above their snouts.
A sly grin appeared on Toriel’s lips. “I wonder who put that there.”