It was the smell of butterscotch that finally filled you with the determination to go back to her.

The skyscrapers of the city have made you feel hemmed in far more than the caverns of the Underground ever did, but living among your own kind has proven a great help in your position as ambassador for the monsters.

It's odd, though. Before the fateful day you fell into the Underground you'd always looked for any excuse to stay as far away from your fellow humans as you could. It was the reason you climbed Mt. Ebott, after all. And then you found yourself running back to the place you'd always hated.

But after the argument you really had nowhere else to go.

You were always running away from something. You ran away from her almost as soon as you met her. She'd wanted to keep you with her, to educate you and care for you. She had the whole thing worked out.

She'd even prepared a syllabus.

You had to leave, though. You wanted to go home. That same home you were running away from, that same home that held nothing for you. So, in effect, you ended up running away from home a second time: Toriel's home. A place all-set-up for the raising of a child.

Her home had been filled with the smell of butterscotch. Cinnamon, too, that spicy-sweet scent. It was her scent. When you woke up to find yourself in a strange room, in a strange bed, the smell had calmed you. Lying on the rug beside the bed was a slice of pie.

Butterscotch and cinnamon flavour. She'd baked it for you.

"Which flavour do you prefer? Cinnamon or butterscotch?"

You'd answered butterscotch. There had been silence on the other end of the phone.

"Oh. Butterscotch? But you wouldn't turn your nose up at cinnamon if you found it on your plate, would you?"

You said you wouldn't. Flustered, in the way only Toriel could be flustered, she'd said goodbye only to call you again seconds later.

"You don't have any allergies, do you? I forgot to ask."

The smell of butterscotch had filled the house when you'd finally arrived. The little house, her home in the ruins. It was still there, you knew. Empty, now, though. You'd gone back to look at it.

No, you'd gone back to see if he was still there. He had been, once, lying among the golden flowers he'd loved. The flowers still bloomed, glittering like liquid metal, as though they'd bled up through the earth. He was gone, though. You hadn't seen any sign of his other form, either. Maybe he hadn't returned to that strange purgatory. Maybe he'd gone somewhere else.

Asriel.

"My child."

A child. A child was all Toriel had ever wanted. She loved children, that much was obvious. Was that why she'd wanted to become a teacher so bad? To be surrounded by children?

Her own two children had been so cruelly taken away from her. A human had been responsible. And yet, when you'd fallen down into the Underground, she'd rescued you, protected you.

She'd had it all planned out.

Her face when you left. Sad, but understanding. That first time, when she'd thought you were going off to die. That second time, after the argument, when you'd said all those things you regretted.

Maybe it would have been better if you'd never gone to stay with her. After you defeated Asriel and led the monsters to the surface, you and her had stared out across the yellow-red landscape. The sunset. It'd been so long since any monster had seen the sun. The others had gone, Asgore too, finally.

"What will you do now?"

Her face, when you asked if you could stay with her. That open, cheerful face. Monstrous, and yet beautiful. A mother's face. Not human, but beautiful and kind. She'd been surprised by your decision, but pleased, too.

"I'll do my best to care for you, for as long as you need."

At first things had worked out. You were busy with helping the monsters integrate into human society, although really it was the other way round. The monsters threw themselves into life on the surface with enthusiasm – it was the humans who needed help to understand them.

And Toriel…. She opened her school, become the teacher she'd always wanted to be.

You'd spent long evenings together, talking or not talking, just enjoying each other's silent company.

But then Asgore… well, it wasn't really his fault. His new job as the grounds keeper of the school kept him close by. It was a job that seemed to suit him far better than being king. He was always dropping round, leaving his laundry for Toriel to do, inviting himself over for tea.

He was a nice guy, despite everything.

So why did you hate him so much? Hadn't Asriel asked you to look after the two of them?

"It's best if they forget about me. They'll all be happier, that way. Besides, someone needs to take care of the flowers."

Another promise you'd broken.

Then that afternoon came. You returned home to find Toriel and Asgore sitting at the kitchen table, laughing. She reached over, touched the back of his hand. There had been such happiness in her wide violet eyes.

The sight struck you with panic.

Stupid. You were such a stupid, jealous kid.

You were so angry and you didn't really know why. When Asgore left you found a dozen stupid reasons to argue with Toriel. Things had escalated and you'd stormed out.

You had places to go and people to see, you told her. She was smothering you, holding you back...

But that wasn't it. Your heart just couldn't take it if you stayed. You knew what was going to happen. She and Asgore, reconciled, remarried. You were in the way. An embarrassment.

You left in anger, but you stayed away to clear the space between them, to let them get back together. Like Asriel, it was better if she forgot about you.

Her face, when you'd told her you were going. A deep sadness, straight away masked. On such a usually cheerful face it was terrible to see.

But your anger wouldn't let you change your mind.

Despite everything you'd said to her, she still wasn't angry. She told you she understood, that she didn't want to stand in your way.

"Be good, my child," she said as you left her home for the last time.

You found your own place, adapted to living on your own. But you missed her. No, not just that. You longed to see her again. But you pushed those feelings away. It would more painful to see her again, to see her happy without you.

And yet you found yourself checking her page on the Undernet social network every evening. Sure, you told yourself it was to read COOLSKELETON95 and ALPHYS's latest banter, but...

For someone who'd known nothing about computers until Alphys had taught her, she'd taken to online life with gusto. She was TOREIL on the Undernet, though.

"My fingers," she explained. "They're just too big and clumsy for this little keypad."

Too big for a keypad, maybe, but the perfect size to squeeze the hand of a frightened child.

Every time you went on the Undernet anxiety gripped you. You'd mess around, afraid to check her page, dreading seeing that inevitable status:

In a relationship with Asgore.
It's complicated.

Your heart racing, you always checked anyway. And the relief you felt when you saw her relationship status hadn't changed.

Still single.

But then the fear would return, the fear she and Asgore were back together but she was keeping it hidden from you. She wouldn't want to hurt you, after all…

Stupid. Why would she think getting back together with Asgore would hurt you? You were still a stupid kid, jealously guarding your mom.

"I don't know if this is endearing or pathetic," she'd said the first time you'd flirted with her.

Oh, it was pathetic. Definitely pathetic.

She posted online pretty often. Funny cat videos, ASCII-art Alphys had sent her, snail facts, recipes… updates about how the school was going. She had human as well as monster students now. Humans were slowly getting used to the idea of sharing their world again, although there was still a lot of prejudice. Toriel, though, was a born teacher. It didn't take long before the human families nearby realised what you knew, that their children could have no better teacher than your mother.

Mom. You never told her you called her that in your head. That first phone call. What had driven you to call her mom? You'd just met.

Because in those few hours together you'd finally understood what it meant to have a mother.

Her embarrassment, but quickly giving way to delight.

"Please, call me 'mother' if it makes you happy."

You knew it made her happy, too.

But it was nothing to the embarrassment when you rang her up later and flirted with her. Childish flirting, sure. It was hard not too, though. Her adorable fluster when you'd told her she was beautiful. She'd laughed it off.

"You can do lot better than a silly little lady like me."

Later she told Sans that it was the most embarrassing moment of her life.

As a kid, it hurt to hear that. Adults take children's emotions for granted, even sensitive ones like Toriel. It was a childish crush, sure. But it had felt very real to you.

And it had stayed real.

"Oh boy," was right.

Was Toriel beautiful? What did that mean, exactly? Could monsters even be beautiful to humans? Of course they could. There were lots of pretty monsters, cute monsters. You'd learned a lot about the monsters in your time in the Underground, making friends, trying to make sure no-one got hurt…

No, Toriel was definitely beautiful. Her soul made her beautiful. Not just her soul. Everything about her. Her eyes: thickly-lashed, gentle. Her wide, smiling mouth. Fanged, but never scary. The warmth and softness of her fur, the strength of her hand as she held yours, giving it a squeeze when she thought you were scared. That generous motherly body, so soft and curvy and comfortable. When she hugged you, it felt as though you were being smothered in happiness.

And that scent of sugar, burnt sugar. The smell you associated with her.

Well, snails have no smell, after all. Snail pies, either.

That scent had drawn you home.

One morning you fell asleep on the train and went past your station. Instead of catching the next train back, you decided to walk back to your apartment instead. Walking along that unknown street you came upon a little bakery. Warm air billowed from the open doorway, carrying with it the smell of burnt sugar and butter.

It hit you like a wall and you stopped in your tracks. You were a kid again, that kid in the striped shirt.

A kid again. Had it really been that long?

Running away always takes time… it's a matter of time as much as space, after all.

You peeped inside the little bakery. The baker, a busty middle-aged lady dressed in an apron, was carrying a pie fresh out of the oven. The sight broke your heart and you fled. The baker, surprised, called out to you.

"Wait!"

Maybe Toriel had wanted to shout that out to you as well that day. But she hadn't. She'd just watched you go. And you hadn't looked back.


Even now you almost turn back, several times. It's a long trip to Toriel's house from your apartment. You chose your apartment especially for that reason. Smack bang in the middle of the city, whereas Toriel's house is here on the outskirts, surrounded by forest.

You leave your car on the street. The forest seems to have grown wild while you've been gone. You can well imagine a monster living here in the forest, a big, scary, snail-eating monster with horns and red eyes who breathes flame.

Well, throws it from her hands, anyway.

You follow what you think is the path to her home and promptly get lost. Could you really have forgotten the way? Maybe, maybe things have changed somehow. Every tree looks the same. You take a path which seems familiar, but it just leads you back in a circle. You thought you were all finished with the puzzles. You even half-expect to stumble upon a wandering monster. But up here, on the surface, they're on their best behaviour. Toriel has seen to that.

Maybe it's a sign… maybe you shouldn't bother her. Especially since you weren't able to get through to her on the phone to let her know you were coming.

- -
*Turn back
* Keep going...

You're about to turn back when you smell something.

The unmistakable sweetness of butterscotch.

You break the path. You zigzag through the trees, stumbling over fallen branches, leaves and twigs crunching under your feet. No path now, only the scent of butterscotch leading you, like the arrow of a compass. Stronger now. You break into a run and almost trip over a fallen log. You keep your footing somehow, stumble a few steps and burst out into another path.

It seems more travelled and far less overgrown than the others. You decide the smell is coming from somewhere along the path to the left and start off in that direction.

The snap of a twig stops you dead in your tracks. The sound came from behind you, from deeper into the forest. You swing around.

She's walking just a few feet away, dressed in those same long blue robes and carrying a pail in one hand. Just as you remember her. Well, maybe not exactly the same. She used to be taller. Has she shrunk?

No, you just got bigger.

Toriel sees you and stops, her violet eyes going wide.

"Is… is that you, my child?" she whispers.

'My child'. The words pierce you to your heart. You take a step toward her.

"Yes, it's me, mom."

She drops the pail, brings her large hands to her mouth in shock. The pail rolls away, disgorging its contents of snails onto the ground. You break into a run.

Toriel comes to meet you. With little effort she snatches you up off your feet and crushes you to her, the soft expanse of her chest and the strength of her hug pushing all the air from your lungs.

Suffocating in that embrace, you feel yourself slipping into unconsciousness, but you don't care. That familiar scent, of flour and sugar and spices and her own sweet fragrance, surrounds you and for the first time in forever your heart surges with joy.

"My child, my child, is it really you?" she murmurs, her lips brushing against your hair.

Your muffled response alerts her to your plight and she quickly puts you back on your feet. Blushing, she apologises for her behaviour.

"So, small one, is this a visit? Or are you here on some other business?"

You laugh and tell her that it's a visit, of course. But deep down you can understand why she asked. It has been a long time.

You tell her you tried to call her. It's true. Someone picked up, but all you heard on the other end was snoring.

Toriel's face turns momentarily fierce, but not at you. "That trouble-making dog..!"

She doesn't need to explain. You've encountered that annoying little dog enough times before to know what she's talking about.

But Toriel has already forgotten all about it. She takes hold of your shoulders and looks you up and down. She nods, seemingly pleased.

"You got tall," she says.

But not as tall as her, you say with a laugh.

Toriel laughs, too. "You'll catch up to me soon."

You shake your head. Humans don't grow that tall.

"No, of course not," says Toriel. The smile on her lips trembles and her eyes grow wet. "It… it really is you, isn't it small one?" She lifts a hand to her mouth. "Oh, but you're so big now. I suppose calling you 'small one' doesn't make sense, any more, does it?"

You tell her you don't mind if she calls you 'small one'. You'll always be smaller than she is, after all.

For a few heartbeats you stand there, together, in silence. There's too much to say and none of it comes. Then Toriel takes hold of your hand.

"You must be tired and hungry," she says.

You are.

She beams. "Well, lucky for you I just baked a cinnamon butterscotch pie!"

You tell her you've been smelling it the whole time you've been walking through the forest.

"Oh, it was always your favourite, wasn't it?"

Well, you think to yourself, you've never been that fond of cinnamon, but…

Oh, it's too late to say anything about that now.

You glance back at the abandoned pail. Toriel follows your gaze. The snails are making a break for it.

"Oh, don't worry," she says and laughs. "I'll come back and get them later."

You walk down the path, your hand in hers as she leads you. She keeps glancing across at you and you ask her what the matter is.

"Oh, nothing," she says. The happy smile seems glued to her face. "it's just that….when we first met, you barely came up to my waist. But now..." She stops and turns so that you're facing each other. "Now you're easily up to my...my chest."

She blushes at the awkward word. She's right, though. You're level with her chest now, that ample, comfy chest that you want to be squished up against again.

You resume your walk. It's not long before the path opens out into a grassy little glade. The smell of butterscotch is especially intense now. You step out into the soft expanse of grass and there, in the centre of the glade, you see an adorable little cottage, almost a copy of the one you discovered in the Ruins all those years ago. A thin wisp of smoke rises from the chimney, while outside a washing line is heavy with freshly-laundered clothes.

Wait… are those Toriel's socks? Scandalous!

But no sign of anyone else's clothes. Relief floods you.

Toriel notices you looking and drops your hand. She rushes over to the laundry basket and starts taking the clothes off the line, her face flushing red.

"Please go and make yourself at home," she says. "You'll find the door is unlocked."

Unlocked. Just like Toriel to have an open-door policy to visitors. But then, as one of the most powerful monsters, she has very little to fear.

When you reach the door, Toriel looks up from her frenzied folding. "Just turn the knob to the right, little one."

You stifle a laugh and do as she says. She hasn't changed a bit.

The smell of baking assaults you as you pull the door open and step inside. No, nothing has changed. The familiar living room, with its table laden with books, no doubt taken from the bookshelf on the far wall, and two chairs pushed up against it: one small and one big, in addition to the larger-than-human armchair beside the fireplace. A small, subdued fire lies glittering in the ashes. The room is warm and smells of sweetness.

The scent of baking is coming from the kitchen. You duck your head through the door. A pie is sitting on the kitchen table, cooling. Funny that she'd bake a butterscotch pie. She doesn't even like butterscotch all that much.

Maybe she ran out of snails. That's why she had to go get some more.

Back in the living room you check out the bookshelf. Books. Lots of them. You glance at the titles. Some you remember from the Ruins, but there are some new ones, too, including the ones you sent her. You never forget to send her a book on her birthday and at Christmas.

"You always were an inquisitive child," says Toriel as she bustles in with the laundry and ducks through the other door to stash it away. Her bedroom. Lucky you didn't have time to go poke around there as well. It was all very well for a kid to sticky-beak in someone's bedroom, but a grown -up? If Toriel hadn't come back in you would have gone and looked, though. Coming back here has made you feel like a kid again.

Toriel comes back in and pulls up one of the chairs for you. You try and sit down on it, but it's too small.

She pulls the larger, Toriel-sized one out for you and you sit down. It's too big for you, but far more comfortable than the other had been.

An odd look passes over Toriel's face and she smiles softly.

"You did get big, didn't you?"

You nod, feeling suddenly awkward on the Toriel-sized chair. You glance across at the other smaller one. Your old chair, of course. From when you lived here with her.

Better to forget. This is just a visit, after all. A surprise visit of an old friend. That's all.

Toriel stokes the fire before sitting herself down in her armchair. The room grows warmer. It's late autumn and the air outside was cool. The same time of year when you climbed Mt. Ebott all those years ago.

She sighs. "I feel suddenly nostalgic."

You tell her you do, too.

"How long has it been?"

You do a quick calculation. The total shocks you, but Toriel's earnest face stops you from lying. You tell her.

She closes her eyes. "No wonder you're so big." She opens them again and the smile she flashes you is self-deprecating. "Of course, when you get to be an old lady like me the days all melt together. Especially when school is out."

That's right. It's autumn vacation, of course. Those short days, when night seems to be always ready to fall even when the day has just begun. The crackle of leaves under your feet, the smell of wood-smoke, the hint of winter's chill in the afternoon air.

You wonder what Toriel does on days like this, now she lives alone. Bakes pies, reads her books in front of the fire?

She always did do a lot of reading…

You laugh, telling her she's not an old lady.

She blinks at you. "Oh, but I am!"

- -
*Change the subject…
*Tell her she's a spring chicken...

You decide to change the subject and ask her about the school.

Her face grows bright. "Oh, it's doing wonderfully well. I have so many students, now. In fact, I may have to look for more teachers. I can't handle so many children at once. They run rings around me, much like you used to."

The way she's smiling tells you she's happiest when she's having rings run around her.

"Oh, and I have human students, now, too!" she says, brimming with pride.

You tell her you know. She's been posting about it a lot on her wall.

"My wall? Oh, but I don't..."

No, the wall of her social network page, on the Undernet.

"Ah! On I see. It's called a wall, is it?" She shakes her head. "Sometimes I wonder if Alphys really did the right thing, fixing my phone. It's so confusing. And these hands of mine..." She lifts one to her face and looks at it, regretful. "They're too big, aren't they?"

You tell her they're the perfect size.

That shy smile, again. "You were always kind to me, my child." She laughs. "Do you remember that time you rang me on the cell phone? It was just after we met. You rang me and told me I had a beautiful voice..."

You laugh. But inside your heart skips a beat.

"...and that you'd like to take me out on a date sometime. And then you called me something…. something saucy." Her eyes narrow and she pouts. "You were very cheeky, making fun of this old lady."

But you weren't making fun, you burst out. You really did think.. do think… that she has a beautiful voice. You also said her eyes were beautiful, you remember.

Toriel brings a hand to her mouth. "Oh, you're right! I remember you did. And right after you asked if you could call me 'mother'." Embarrassment. "You certainly were an interesting child."

You were just being honest, you reply.

She laughs. "Oh, enough with your jokes." She lies back and sighs, then looks across at you through her lashes. "You've changed your hair."

You nod. The page-boy style didn't really suit you any more.

"I thought it was cute," she said. "Though I remember you were such a pretty child I wasn't sure whether you were a girl or a boy." She sits forward. "But I like what you've done with it. You look very... handsome."

Her cheeks turn pink. You feel your on face grow hot, too.

"The striped t-shirt?"

You tell her that stripes only really suit kids.

Toriel sighs. "Somehow, you'll always be a child to me."

The words, though innocent, pierce you.

Stupid. Of course she feels that way. You'll always be her child, and she your mother.

"But enough about the past,," she says, sitting forward. "You must tell me everything that's been going on in your life. You don't post much on your… wall." Her eyes are eager. "Oh, did I say that right?"

You laugh and nod. But she has a point. Apart from a few posts, you've kept yourself to yourself mostly. You were always like that, even as a kid. 'Cagey', Sans called it.

But everyone has their secrets.

You tell her about your job, about juggling the everyday life of a human with your more important job of acting as the ambassador between humans and monsters. The monsters have never been the problem, but the humans are sometimes prone to… misunderstandings.

Toriel's face grows fierce. "I've tried to keep the less sensible ones under control, but there's always some who are not good at taking advice."

You laugh and say that that reminds you of you.

Toriel's expression turns pensive. "it's lucky that you were like that, though. If I'd destroyed the exit to the Ruins, you would never have left, and you never would have… none of what happened would ever have happened." A sad smile. "If I'd kept you all wrapped up in cotton wool in my house, the barrier would still be up and we'd..." Her voice drops away.

If you'd stayed. She's right, of course, but you don't tell her how many times in the Underground you'd found yourself wishing you'd followed her advice.

The pie remains on the table, uneaten, so focussed are the two of you on catching up. Toriel tells you everything about the school, about her students. She's so proud of her job. You're pleased to see how happy she seems. But behind it all a nagging doubt…

You mention Asgore, as though an incidental thought. Toriel's expression straight away changes to one you can't quite place. Annoyance? Confusion? Yearning? It's hard to tell.

Maybe it's a mixture of all of them.

"Asgore is fine," she says after a while. "He helps out a lot, especially around the school." She laughs. "He actually makes an excellent grounds-keeper, isn't that strange? I think it suits him better than being king."

So… does he still often visit?

Toriel 's eyes narrow. "He sometimes invites himself over. He's always asking me for advice. I swear, that man can't tie his laces without asking someone else whether he should or not. You'd think we were still married!"

Your heart freezes, but your need to know the truth fills you with determination. You forge ahead.

So... she's not thinking of getting back together with him?

Toriel stares at you, then bursts into laughter. "What? No!" She sighs and pats your hand. "Sometimes, little one, two people are just not meant to be. Asgore and I… I'm afraid we're not good for each other, any more. Friends, maybe, but nothing else."

You stare down at the table, trying to hide the joyful smile you can't keep from beaming forth. Luckily, Toriel decides to change the subject.

"But you've left out the most important news," she says. You look up to find her violet eyes have narrowed and that motherly mock-fierceness has returned. "You really shouldn't keep secrets from your mom, you know!"

Your smile shifts to confusion and you tell her you've no idea what you're talking about.

"Your girlfriend," she says. "You haven't said anything about her at all."

You swallow. Your girlfriend. What is there to say, exactly?

And how did she know about her?

Toriel answers your unasked question. "Sans told me you'd met someone," she says. "So what is she like? You haven't posted any pictures of her on the Undernet. I'm sure she's cute."

Of course. That time you ran into Sans at the beach. He must have…

There's another social network, you tell Toriel. A human one. You usually post everything human-related on that one.

Toriel's eyes grow briefly sad. You admit, it does seem as if you've been keeping things from her. It's not like you were ashamed of your girlfriend, though.

So why did you want to keep her a secret from Toriel?

Because you were ashamed. Being with that girl had felt strangely like cheating.

Stupid. Cheating on your mother? Who even thinks that way?

'Oh boy,' is right.

It's not only for humans, you say quickly. If she likes, you can set up a page there for her as well.

Toriel shakes her head. Her smile is gentle. "No, no, no. Having one page is confusing enough for this old lady. And it's good that you have your other friends, too." She leans forward, conspiratorial. "But I'm not going to let you off the hook. You have to tell me all about her."

What is there to say? You met her at work. She was funny and nice and kind and pretty and…

...and not Toriel.

"You have to invite her here, little one. I'll bake a pie. Do you know if she likes butterscotch or…?"

You tell Toriel you can't do that.

She blinks her big, violet eyes. "Oh, please don't worry. I promise I won't embarrass..."

No, the truth is you're no longer together. You broke up with her.

Toriel frowns. "But if she was so nice, why did you…?"

What can you tell her? That smelling a freshly-baked butterscotch pie made you realise you didn't love her? How stupid does that sound?

You say you guess that you just don't understand humans that well, after all. You're not lying to Toriel. It's the truth.

The answer seems to satisfy her. "I suppose it's inevitable you'd feel more comfortable with the idea of having a monster for a girlfriend. After all, you spent so much time amongst us in the Underground." Her eyes light up. "Have you thought about going out with a monster?"

You stare at her. Her words are disturbingly close to the truth.

She takes your startled look as being unsure and laughs. "Oh, but there are a number of single monsters who would suit you very well I think. How about that girl with the pigtails, the one who ran all those bake-sales?"

Who, Muffet?

"Yes, that's her. Don't you think she's very pretty? She's a very good dancer, too."

Well yes, but…

"And she's a baker. I think a girl who can cook would suit you really well."

You say that Muffet is all those things, but she's not exactly your type.

"Well then," says Toriel, bringing a finger to her mouth. "What about Temmie?"

What, Temmie? Which one?

"Oh, the cute little one who used to run that shop in the Temmie Village."

What, that Temmie? Really?

Toriel face is serious. "Yes. I know she's a bit… different, but she owns her own business. And she's going to college, now. I think you need a girl who's in charge of things and who's well-educated."

But Temmie is… You decided to leave that sentence hanging. Instead you just say that Temmie is very nice, but unfortunately you're allergic to her. The last time she touched you…

At the word 'touched', Toriel's eyes narrow dangerously. You explain quickly, stumbling over your words, that Temmie was always trying to pet you for some reason. And it hurt.

"Well," sighs Toriel. "Anyway, there are still a lot of nice monster girls. I should organise a date for you."

No, please don't, you think to yourself while you smile and nod and say it's okay, that you really…

Toriel shakes her head. "Everyone needs someone, my child. There are few things sadder than being without a special someone to share all the good things and bad things in your life with."

She turns away, but not before you see the sadness flickering in her eyes.

"Well," she says, clapping her hands together and standing up. "I really am a terrible mother. You said you were hungry and I've been stopping you from eating with all my silly questions. Let's have dinner." She moves towards the kitchen. "I have some hot chocolate in the pantry. Would you like some?"

You say that you're okay with just the pie. Some water would be good, though.

Toriel frowns. "Oh, but you always loved chocolate."

Uh, no. That wasn't you.

Toriel realises her mistake. She dusts her hands nervously on the front of her robe, as though her words are lint that has dropped there.

"I'll go get you some water," she says.

You eat dinner. You know that Toriel prefers snail pie to butterscotch and cinnamon, but she shares the pie with you anyway. The first bite sends a wave of nostalgic feelings pouring through you.

"How is it?" she asks eagerly.

You tell her it's even more delicious than you remember.

Your words please her and the earlier awkwardness dissipates.

Even loaded with sugar, the pie makes you sleepy. You feel your eyelids growing heavier. You glance at your watch. Wait, is it really that late? You've been talking with Toriel for hours and it only feels like a few minutes.

You stifle a yawn, but Toriel spots it. She stands up and takes your plate and glass. "Time for bed, small one."

You protest that you're not sleepy and you still have a lot to talk about, but Toriel puts her foot down. It's never a good idea to mess with her when she's wearing that fierce expression.

"You need your sleep. You're a grown-up now, and I'm sure you work very hard. Don't let this silly old lady's questions keep you up. We'll have time to talk tomorrow."

Tomorrow. Her eyes are open, questioning.

You tell her you really don't want to bother her. It's not far back to your apartment. You'll just…

Toriel shakes her head. "No, I simply won't allow it. Driving when you're sleepy is very dangerous." She smiles. "Your friend Papyrus has told me all about motor cars." She purses her lips. "Now, you can sleep in your old room, but I'm not sure if I have any spare pyjamas around that will fit you."

No, you really should go…

You see something pass across Toriel's face. Disappointment. She knows you're trying to leave. That look… suddenly, you're back on that cliff looking out over Mt. Ebott and the City.

You don't want to go., really. It's just that your heart won't…

You tell Toriel not to worry about pyjamas. You have an overnight bag in your car with a toothbrush and razor and other stuff.

Toriel arches her eyebrows in curiosity, but she doesn't ask you why you have all that in the car. From when you used to stay over at your girlfriend's place, of course.

You get up and stretch. That chair really was becoming a bit too comfortable. You excuse yourself but Toriel follows you to the door.

"I should come with you," she says. "There are a lot of monsters around, from the Ruins."

You laugh and say that you can deal with a few Froggits or Moldsmal.

Toriel smiles. "I keep forgetting you're all grown up." Her eyes slip across your body. "You grew so tall," she murmurs.

This time you don't get lost in the forest and you're soon back with your overnight bag. Toriel, though, is waiting in the doorway and she breathes a sigh of relief when she sees you reappear on the other side of the glade.

"I've run a bath for you," she says.

You take the bath. It's the first bath you've had in a long time since your apartment is only big enough to have a shower. You lie there, enjoying the warm water, half expecting to see Toriel appear in the doorway with a scrubbing brush in her hand. She always used to scrub your back for you. Of course, you were a kid back then. Being naked in front of your mom wasn't embarrassing.

Well, maybe it was a bit embarrassing. You always made sure there were lots of suds in the bath. You were that age, after all, when your body betrays you at every turn.

You lie back and imagine Toriel appearing anyway, pulling up the sleeves of her robe and getting busy scrubbing off the dirt of the day's play. Carefree days before that terrible argument, before you ran away again.

This time, though, in your sleepiness your dreamy mind paints a different picture. You're all grown up. Toriel puts aside the scrubbing brush. She pushes some soap into her big hands and rubs them together until she makes a fragrant meringue of foam.

"My child, you really need to take better care of yourself," she tuts. Her cool hands touch your back and you almost jump out of your skin. "Don't you wash yourself properly? It's a very bad habit."

You tell her that you always find that spot on your back hard to reach.

Toriel slides her palms down your back. The sensation is amazing. She has such strong hands.

"Well, I suppose a mother's work is never done, even when their child is all grown up," she murmurs as she washes your back. "You've gotten so big, little one. So handsome and strong, too."

You close your eyes. The tension of the day is scrubbed off you by Toriel's gentle washing. But soon it's replaced by a different tension.

Oh god. You're… wait a second.

You splash your hands up and down in the bath until the foam is thick, covering your body's mortifying reaction.

"Please be careful not to splash me, my child," Toriel scolds you. "If these robes get wet, they get rather… see-through."

Oh god. Why did she have to put that image in your head?

You turn away and fix your eyes on the tiles of the far wall. Toriel hums happily to herself as she washes your underarms. You start to squirm. Her touch just feels too good!

"Please don't wiggle, little one. I have to get every little spot, otherwise…"

Her hands slip around your sides and begin to soap up your chest. Her palms slip over your nipples. They're rock hard. A jolt of pleasure runs down your back, straight to that embarrassingly honest part of you.

You bite back a yelp of delight. Her hands drop down onto your stomach, then lower….

"Excuse me," she says. "Just one last little bit to..."

Her hands brush your hardness.

"Oh!" Toriel pulls her hand out of the suds, her eyes wide, a flush spreading across her cheeks. "Is that your…? Oh dear. Did I do that?"

You start to babble something, but she just laughs.

"There's no need to be ashamed, little one. It's a natural reaction. Was this old lady's washing really making you feel that good?"

Mortified, you nod. Yes, she was making you feel very good.

Toriel smiles. It's a sultry smile, not the sort of smile you've ever seen on the real Toriel's face. But you've often seen it on dream Toriel's.

Oh boy. This fantasy again.

"Well, this needs to get washed, too," she murmurs into your ear. Her hand slips over your length and begins to stroke it up and down.

An incredible flash of pleasure bursts between your legs. Shocked, you slip deeper into the bath, your arms and legs flailing. A great tsunami of soapy water crashes over the side of the bath, all over Toriel. She squeals and pulls away. The whole of her front is soaked, now.

You sit back up, babbling an apology. Toriel glares at you, mock-fierce.

"Oh, why must you always squirm so much when I'm trying to wash you, little one? Now look at what you've done!"

The front of Toriel's robe is soaked, and like she said before, it's become see-through. You can clearly see her bra underneath, that big mom-bra holding up her huge, overgenerous breasts, and poking through the sodden material her large, dark nipples.

"Well, I can't very well keep washing you like this," Toriel mutters. She stands and taking the hem of her robe in her hands she pulls it up and over her head in a single fluid motion.

You sit there, your mouth flapping like a fish at Toriel, now dressed only in her bra and panties. Plain white, sensible underwear, the sort a mom wears.

She glances at you, turns and folds her wet robe up and places it on the drying rack. While she does this you get an awesome view of her hips and butt. It's an ample butt, but very shapely, a perfect match for her big boobs. It's a mom body, to be honest.. you can't eat snail and butterscotch pie without getting some generous curves and soft padding in all the right places. And her little tail, that short little fluffy goat-tail poking out above her cheeks. You can barely resist reaching out and touching the adorable thing.

As if sensing your intention, Toriel's tail flicks up and she turns around, her eyes stern.

"Why are you staring at me like that, my child?" She glances down at her body. "Is it because of this underwear? I'm sorry if they seem a little plain, but I am just an old lady. I don't have anyone to show off to, any more."

You say that you weren't staring at all.

Toriel frowns. "It's not good to tell fibs, little one."

Okay, okay, you say. You were looking at her underwear. But you weren't thinking it looked plain or boring at all. It suits her.

Toriel laughs. "Well, when you're my size, you're not exactly spoiled for choice in the style of your underclothes. It's a shame, really. I'd like to wear something sexier than this..."

Sexier? You swallow. It's already too damn sexy as it is.

Toriel's eyes go wide.

Whoops. You thought that out loud.

But Toriel laughs again. "Now, you really shouldn't swear, my child. But thank you for your kind words. I know you're just humouring me… I mean, look at me." She pats her stomach and squeezes her thighs. "Too many snail pies, I'm afraid." She drops her gaze. "I'm sure your girlfriend is a lot sexier than I am."

You can't stand to see her sad. You lean across the edge of the bath and throw your arms around her waist. The water in the bath surges with you. Toriel squeals, first at your touch and then at the wave of water that splashes over the two of you.

"Oh no!" she gasps. "Now my underwear is totally soaked as well!"

Pressing your cheek against her soft stomach you look up at her apologetically. That fierce look. You like it almost as much as her smile, you realise.

"Oh, what am I going to do with you?" She places a hand on your head and strokes your wet hair, a patient smile replacing her frown. "Well, you always were a mischievous child." She gently takes your hands from around her waist and sits you back down in the bath. Then she places a hand against the waistband of her pants.

"Totally soaked," she mutters. Then that sultry smile again. "I suppose, since you're naked, that it won't matter if I take these off as well, right? You won't be embarrassed seeing your mom naked, will you?"

You shake your head, trying not to seem to eager.

She grins. "Well, then..."

Toriel's big thumbs slip under the elastic waistband. She peels her underwear down off her wide hips in degrees, slowly revealing her thick thighs and…

"Is everything alright in there, my child?"

The dream vanishes. Your hands fly out of the water. You shout back, saying that you must have just fallen asleep or something.

The door opens a crack. "It's dangerous to fall asleep in the bath, little one. You should get out before you catch a cold."

You tell her you will. The door slowly shuts. You wait until you hear footsteps before you get out, though. There's no way you want Toriel to accidentally walk in while you're sporting this painfully swollen erection. She'd probably scream and faint if she saw you like this.

You dry yourself with difficulty. It really doesn't want to go down. And it's a bit gross masturbating here in Toriel's bathroom. You'll just have to deal with it.

You slip on your pyjamas and glance at yourself in the mirror. A bit of judicious adjustment and there's no way anyone can tell you're rock hard.

Damn, that fantasy… It was stuff just like that which made things so uncomfortable between you and Toriel when you were living here.

Toriel has warm milk waiting for you when you come out. You sit at the kitchen table and drink it. It's like you never left, somehow.

Toriel watches you drink.

"I thought you didn't like to wear stripes any more," she murmurs.

You glance down. Oh right. Your pyjamas. They've got stripes.

Well, you say. Pyjamas are an exception and...

Toriel smiles. "Oh, please ignore me. I'm just teasing you." The smile slips from her lips. "I…. It's just nice to have you back, my child." Her eyes go wide. "To visit, I mean. To visit."

You put down the cup. You can feel tears starting in the corners of your eyes. What are you supposed to say?

"I missed you too, mom."

Toriel picks up your cup and takes it to the sink.

Her hand. You noticed it was trembling.

"Well," she says, turning back after she's washed up. Her expression is stern and mom-like now. "Time to brush your teeth and go to bed."

You stand up meekly. There's no way you can argue with her in this mode. When you get back out of the bathroom, you hear her call out.

Your old bedroom.

She's just finished tucking the bedclothes into your bed.

"I'm usually up early, but please, don't worry about sleeping in. You need the rest." She cups your cheek. "You've got bags under your eyes. I don't think you've been sleeping properly."

She holds her hand there for a moment longer than seems natural. Then she pulls it away and moves to the door.

"Good night, my child. Sweet dreams."

She closes the door, leaving you standing there touching your hand to your tingling cheek. Just a single touch of her can…

You shake your head. No, better not to think of all that stuff. She's right. You really haven't been sleeping well. You need rest, and you won't be able to do it if you're diamond hard.

You glance across at the bed. Your old bed. You sit down on it. It's far too small, of course. Could she really not have noticed?

You pull the bed clothes off. Luckily, there's plenty of space on the floor. You fluff up your pillow and lie down.

It's not exactly the most comfortable place you've ever slept. Well, it's better than the back-seat of your car, anyway.

You reach up and switch off the lamp.

You spend a good hour tossing and turning, half dropping into sleep and jerking back into full wakefulness. No matter what position you lie in, you can't seem to get comfortable.

It's only partly to do with sleeping on the floor, you realise.

You can't believe you're back here. There's just a wall between your rooms. Just a wall, but it may as well be the entire length of the Underground. That strange distance between you… it's even worse, now.

You should never have come back. You can't get comfortable because you're not supposed to be here. This isn't your home any more.

Your apartment. Maybe you could just sneak out… leave a note, of course. Say you got a call.

No, so stupid… so stupid. Running away again.

Running away, running away...

Noise from outside. You think you're still dreaming.

The door opens a crack. Pale light forms a bands on the far wall of the room.

"Little one? You're still awake?"

You murmur.

"May I come in?"

You mutter something, and after a moment's hesitation the door slips open.

A gasp.

"Oh, what are you doing sleeping on the floor?"

You sit up, rubbing your eyes. The bed, you say… it's a bit too small for you, now.

Toriel brings an exasperated hand to her forehead. "Oh, how could I be so stupid?" She picks up your pillow and takes your hand.

She's wearing her nightdress, the shadow of her voluptuous form visible beneath it in the half-light as she leads you into her room.

Wait, is this a dream?

"Please," she says. "You can sleep in my bed. It's more than big enough for you."

You start to protest, but she bustles you under the covers.

Warm. It's already so warm. And her scent… it's everywhere.

Toriel grabs her pillow and makes for the door.

You sit up and ask her where's she's going.

"Oh," she says. She places the pillow in front of her chest. She never wears a bra to bed and she's always been embarrassed at being seen by you in her nightclothes, even when you were a kid. "I'm going to sleep on my armchair. It's very comfortable, you know."

No. You can't force her out of her own bed. There's more than enough space here in her bed for the two of you.

Toriel blushes. "Oh, but my child. Don't you think it's a little..?"

You're so sleepy you can't really think straight. You throw your legs off the side of the bed. You won't be able to sleep knowing you've taken her bed, you tell her. You'll make do with the floor.

"No, no, no…" Toriel closes the bedroom door with a sigh. "Oh, you stubborn child. Very well… "

You climb back under the covers, keeping to the edge so that Toriel has space to get in on the other side. You feel the mattress sink down as she sits on it.

"Are you sure, little one? I do snore, you remember."

You tell her you do remember, and that you snore, too.

"Oh, but you really think there's enough space?"

Of course there is, you say.

Silence. Then you feel the covers slip down and the bed shifts as Toriel lies down beside you. She's careful not to touch you. But as she gets herself comfortable, you feel the softness of her tail brush your butt.

"Oh!" she says. "My apologies. My tail… it's always getting in the way, isn't it?"

You laugh. Has she really forgotten all the times you slept in her bed? The nightmares?

"No," she murmurs. "I haven't forgotten."

Bad things happened in the Underground. You still have nightmares at times.

"Goodnight, darling."

Goodnight, you say.

Surrounded with her fragrance and warmth, it takes all of three heartbeats for you to fall asleep.


"My darling..."

It's her voice. At first you think you're dreaming. No, not that dream again. The one where she slips into your room while you're sleeping and…

You feel arms slip around your waist, warm breath against the back of your neck. You start to fall back asleep. Oh. It's just her, the human. Your girlfriend… she always comes onto your side of the bed and hugs you during the night, as if she's afraid you'll vanish or something.

She makes you overheat, but it always seems cruel to try and escape from her.

What's she wearing tonight? Feels fluffy. She's always complaining about being cold. Did she buy herself some new fluffy pyjamas or...?

"...my child."

Your eyes flash open. The room is dark, but starlight coming through the window leaves a gentle sheen on every surface. A little bedstead, a lamp, a picture frame…

A picture of you. Why of you? Don't you have a picture of Toriel on your bedside table?

Another nightmare...

No. The room is quiet. That scent, that beautiful sweet scent everywhere. This can't be a nightmare.

Your old room. Back in Toriel's house. You're just dreaming about Toriel again. It's that dream where you're married and sharing her big bed.

She snuggles closer to you, her muzzle pressing against your neck. Warmth, and moisture. A sleepy kiss. She wriggles and you feel her plump breasts press against the small of your back.

Oh, that dream. You sigh and lie back and enjoy it. Must be because she's wearing something fluffy to bed. It's worth it, feeling this hot…

You're as hard as a rock. Maybe if you tease her a bit, she'll wake up and then you can…

You turn over. Your hands run across her arm. Her fluffy pyjamas make her seem really big. Oh well. You bring your hands higher, up to her collar. You'll need to get these things off if you want to convince her.

No collar. The fluffiness just continues.

She sighs under your touch.

Too sleepy to mess with clothes. You slip your hands down onto her boobs.

Wait. Have… have they always been this huge?

"Oh!" she exhales.

You're not dreaming. And this is not your human girlfriend.

Toriel. You're sharing her bed.

You freeze. You slide your hands away, slowly, fearful she'll wake up and find you… doing this. Molesting her.

But wait.. didn't she start it? Is she…?

No, she's asleep. Dreaming.

You pull your hands away. She grabs hold of them at the wrist, places them back onto her boobs.

"Oh, darling, darling..."

She's dreaming. Dreaming of him.

Your heart turns to ice. She thinks you're him, and is dreaming that you're…

"Oh, oh, my darling."

Your eyes sting. Tears. What you'd always feared.

"My darling… my darling..."

Please. Please don't say his name. Your heart… your heart just couldn't take it.

"Oh my darling… oh Frisk!"

Wait, what?

Toriel pulls your hands closer. She sighs, presses her muzzle against your temple. You feel the softest of kisses against your skin.

"Oh my child. We should… we should not be doing this."

"...mom?" you whisper. "Are you awake?"

She makes no response. Your eyes have adjusted to the low light of the room, now. You pull gently away. Toriel's eyes are closed.

Her hands drop your wrists, slip down your sides.

"Oh," she murmurs against your neck.

Her hands reach your waist, slip around it. Her large hands cup your butt and squeeze it gently.

"Oh!" she mutters. She pulls you closer.

You're rock hard, even despite the awkwardness. Oh god.

Toriel continues to pull you against her, as though she wants you to become part of her. Your face is submerged in her soft breasts and you struggle to breathe. She begins to pant against your hair.

"Oh Frisk. Yes, darling. Just like that. Oh, you're such a quick learner. Oh… oh…. Oh!"

You bite your lip, trying not to cry out. The feeling of your hardness pressing up against her is indescribable. The softness of her thighs, the silkiness of her underwear. Her thighs and tummy... If she keeps rubbing you against her like this then… then you're going to…!

Toriel gives a little gasp, squeezes your butt hard. She shudders, her big boobs shaking against your face. She gasps again, squeezes even harder. Her thighs grip your hardness between them.

Is… is she coming?

It's too much to take. You can't hold back any more. Shame and joy fill you as you feel yourself plummet over the brink. You hold onto Toriel, hugging her shivering body to you as you shudder with your own climax. She continues to come, too, panting out her dreamy pleasure into your hair.

Pleasure spills through your body. Oh god, this is a dream isn't it? Some strange dream, the product of too much sugar before you went to bed.

But no. As the pleasure ebbs and you feel exhaustion settle over you, you become aware of the cold stickiness in your pyjama bottoms. No, this is no dream. It's very, very real.

Shame fills you. You should have pulled away, stopped her from…

But you tried to. There was no way you could have escaped her embrace. Even now, it's only with difficulty that you squirm out of her arms. Her hands slip from your butt and you pull yourself away.

Toriel murmurs, her hands reaching out for you. You grab your pillow and put it in her way. She takes it and draws it flush against her chest, lifting her knees to cuddle it to her. In the gentle starlight you can see her face. The fur around her horns is dishevelled, her ears lopsided, but there's a contented smile on her lips.

"Frisk..." she murmurs into the corner of the pillow.

You slip out of bed and tiptoe to the bathroom, where you take off your pyjama bottoms. Gross. As quietly as possible you clean them as best you can and slip them into the laundry basket at the bottom. A strange nostalgia strikes you. Didn't you used to do the exact same thing as a kid?

Ever since you've come back, you've felt like you're half your age.

You slip into your room and find some underwear and put that on. Then you sneak back into her room. It'll be strange is she wakes up without you. She'll think you snuck away during the night and will get angry at you.

You get back into bed. Toriel murmurs and turns over. Damn. She still has your pillow.

You idiot. You just came together with her and you're thinking about your pillow? It doesn't matter… it doesn't matter. It just happened. She was asleep. Forget about it.

She looks so happy, holding onto your pillow.

"Frisk..."

Even with your mind going a million miles an hour in every direction, your pleasure-sapped body falls quickly into a deep and surprisingly restful sleep.

You planned on waking up early so you could have a shower and get dressed, but when you open your eyes you're alone in the bed.

You reach down. You're wearing underwear.

So it wasn't a dream.

You get out of bed. There's a delicious smell coming from under the door. Baking. The clattering of pans is unmistakable.

But what's that other sound? That sweet melody…

Toriel is humming to herself.

You sneak back to your room, get into some clothes then dump your pyjama tops in the laundry. You don't want Toriel asking any embarrassing questions.

As soon as you walk in Toriel pops her head out from the kitchen doorway and smiles at you.

"Oh, I thought I heard you. Did you sleep well?"

You find it hard to look into her open violet eyes, but you force yourself to. You don't want her to think anything strange is going on. You nod, trying not to blush.

"Oh, I'm glad." she says. Her face takes on a look of relief. "I was worried I kept you awake."

Your mouth drops open.

"I have a confession to make," says Toriel, dropping her gaze. "I… I did something very bad during the night."

You swallow. What did she…?

She looks up at you, ashamed. "I stole your pillow."

Your pillow. You want to break out laughing. You tell her not to worry. You still slept really well.

It's true. Even after everything that happened, you feel totally refreshed. It's weird. You haven't slept so well in years.

"Well good," says Toriel. "Now sit down. I'll have breakfast out in just a few moments."

Breakfast is so normal that you start to imagine that last night actually was just a strange, vivid dream. But of course, it can't be. It's just that Toriel was fast asleep. She doesn't realise anything happened.

It's with relief that you fall into your old ways, familiar chit-chat over breakfast.

Eventually, Toriel glances at you. She starts to say something, but seems to decide against it. You press her.

"Oh, it's just…" Her eyes are wide and hopeful. "I was wondering what your plans were. Do you have to rush away? I know you're very busy in the city..."

You hesitate. Shouldn't you really be getting back? After last night, maybe it's best if you put some distance between the two of you.

- -
*Stay with her.
*You really do have to be getting back...

You shake your head. You don't have to leave so soon. You tell Toriel that if it's okay with her, you'd like to stay a little longer. You still have a lot of things to catch up about.

Years of things, actually.

She beams at you. "You're very welcome to stay as long as you like, little one. This is your second home of course."

Home.

That reminds you. There seems to be a few jobs around the cottage that need doing. You tell Toriel you'd be happy to help out.

Toriel claps her hands. It's an adorably girlish mannerism. "Oh, the house could do with a man's touch, it's true." She frowns. "I'm afraid I've allowed a lot of things get away on me. I suppose I've just been busy with the school and with all my baking. I know I have some tools lying around here somewhere…"

It's no problem, you say. You'll start after breakfast.

It's more than a few things. Yesterday, you'd only had a quick glance at the outside of the cottage and in the light of day the place is seeming very run down.

You leave Toriel to do her piles of marking and other school-related paperwork and settle down to fix the most serious problems. First, the roof has a few loose tiles. Then, the verandah has a number of rotten boards that could be dangerous…

Dangerous. You remember how things used to be when you lived with Toriel. She always kept you wrapped in cotton wool. Even the iron for the fire had had its point ground down. She must really have been busy to let the cottage end up in this state, especially since she says her students sometimes visit.

Even with only a short break for lemonade and then lunch, you've only managed to do a small fraction of the jobs around the place.

The sun is setting when Toriel finally gets sick of calling you back in and comes out, her hands on her hips.

"Come down this instant," she says. "You must be exhausted!"

Just one last nail…

"Right now!"

You almost jump out of your skin. Flushing, you climb back down the ladder.

"Look at you," says Toriel, tutting as she grabs your hand. "You're awash in sweat…. And you..." She blushes. "You smell of perspiration." She drops your hand. "I'll go bring you a towel."

You watch as she bustles back inside, flustered. You give yourself an experimental sniff.

Uh. She's not wrong. No wonder she ran off so quick.

You get out of the shower, feeling a million times better. You're drying your hair when you see that Toriel's been busy while you've been washing. The table is full of dishes. You're happy to see that it's human food as well as the stuff that monsters like to eat. In the Underground, you survived on a diet of Popsato Chisps and Rock Candy.

You murmur appreciatively. It all looks delicious.

Toriel glances at you, an embarrassed smile on her face. "Oh, it's really nothing. With you helping out I had a lot of time spare so I was able to cook some of your favourite dishes. You didn't forget that I can cook things other than pies, right?"

You smile at her. Of course you didn't. But there, in the centre, is a butterscotch pie, already sliced into and steaming hot.

You give it a sniff. Sweetness, and that hint of spice.

Uh. Cinnamon.

Every time. But somehow the scent melts your heart. Maybe you've started to get a taste for the spicy heat of cinnamon.

After dinner its more talking – it seems Toriel wants to tell you about every books she's read since the last time you saw her. But eventually even Toriel finds her words failing her, and then you just spend quiet time together in front of the fire. You lie down on your stomach and read a book she recommended. It's not bad.

Halfway you glance up at her. It's really like nothing has changed.

And yet, last night…

Toriel yawns and excuses herself to go and take a shower. Soon she's bustling you off to bed. You don't resist. You're exhausted. In fact, you're starting to nod off.

She takes your hand and helps you, even though you're quite capable of making it to the bedroom yourself.

You wake up in the middle of the night. She has her arms around you, cuddling you from behind.

"Frisk..." she murmurs against your neck. "…oh my child. My child!"

This is starting to be a bit of a habit.