"Remember, I want you on your very best behaviour," said Muffet. "If you make me regret bringing you, I'll be terribly cross!"

Lovett only grumbled in response. She was looking very prim and proper, sitting on Muffet's shoulder with a little ribbon tied around her. Muffet had done her best to make her look presentable.

Together, they stood outside Toriel's home. She had elected not to bring any other spiders with her, this time. Toriel had asked to be given a few days to settle, but Muffet had waited almost a week before going to visit again. She had wanted to give it even more time, but her spiders had reminded her that responding too late was just as rude as inviting yourself too early. It wasn't that she didn't want to see Toriel, at all. She was just nervous, and wanted to make the right impression…

She raised a hand and gave the door three smart knocks. "Hello!" she said. "It's me! I hope this is a good time."

There was no response. She waited, and couldn't hear anything inside the house.

"Toriel?" she called, and knocked again. "Are you there?"

She heard no footsteps, and no friendly voice. Indeed, the house seemed to be perfectly still.

"Perhaps she isn't home?" she asked Lovett. "I suppose that must be it... Oh, what a pity. And we made you look so nice for her, too!" She was a little crestfallen. She'd been a little worried, but had been looking forward to seeing Toriel all the same.

Lovett had grown impatient. She scampered down Muffet's body and onto the ground before running in a few circles.

"You don't want to head home?" asked Muffet. "You must have been restless, sitting still all this time… why don't we go for a walk? There's no need to let this outing go to waste."

Muffet smiled as she watched Lovett chase insects and clamber over rubble. She felt a little better.

After around half an hour of walking, she took her mind off her thoughts and looked around. She realised she hadn't been here before.

"Where are we going, Lovett? We mustn't get lost."

But Lovett responded by moving faster. She seemed to have caught an interest in something, and rounded a corner without hesitation.

"Wait!"

Muffet chased her, lamenting internally. Her excitability was endearing, but she wished she wouldn't run off like this…

As Lovett charged forth, any creatures in her way either scattered or were barrelled into. A froggit croaked indignantly as it barely managed to hop out of the way. Muffet muttered apologies as she ran.

After many twists and turns, they came to a dark room, and Lovett stopped in her tracks. Muffet scooped her up at once.

"What have I told you about running away so suddenly?" she scolded. "Must you embarrass me like that? We are getting you a leash, young lady!"

The little spider seemed content. She curled up in Muffet's arms.

Muffet realised she was looking into a room lit by a single ray of light, coming from above. Unlike most of the Ruins, mixed with the stone floor was a patchwork of dirt.

The next thing she noticed was Toriel kneeling in the light, wearing gardening gloves and holding a tin can of water. Even knelt down, she was taller than Muffet. She had heard the commotion, and turned around in surprise. She was crying.

"Hello, Muffet," she said, trying to smile. "What brings you here?"

I shouldn't be here right now, thought Muffet.

"I'm sorry," she said, mortified. "I thought I would visit you today, but you weren't home."

"That is alright," said Toriel, wiping her eyes. "I am still not used to the idea of receiving visitors, and should have left a note. I come here to garden. Would you like to see?"

Praying that Lovett would decide to remain quiet, Muffet approached. Littered around Toriel were some small gardening tools. By her side were a couple of yellow flowers. Muffet recognised them.

"These are the dried flowers from your home," she said.

"Some of them," said Toriel quietly. "They're buttercups. We had a garden of them, back home. Our children loved them." She gave a watery chuckle. "I've just planted the seeds."

She started to sob.

Muffet was speechless. She had no idea of what to do. She didn't know whether to stay, or to leave her alone. Hesitantly, she put two small hands on Toriel's arm, half expecting to be shrugged away. She wasn't.

Nothing broke the silence save for Toriel's quiet sobs. There was nothing to say.

Awkwardly, Muffet cast her eyes upwards. The beam of light came from a hole in the cavern ceiling far above. Real sunshine, she thought.

She idly thought about how she could scale the walls and climb through the hole to the Overworld. She looked at Toriel – her face in her hands, kneeling in front of the freshly turned earth. Her fur glowed in the sunlight. It was an ethereal sight. Muffet's heart felt full.

She didn't know how long they stayed like that for. But, eventually, Toriel lifted her hand, and gently touched it to Muffet's.

"Thank you for this," she whispered. She was still staring at the flowerbed. "I'm sorry. I think – I would like to be alone, now."

"Of course," murmured Muffet. She gave Toriel's arm a squeeze before leaving her be.


She visited again the afternoon after next – again, by herself. This time, Toriel answered her at the door. She looked tired, but happy to see her. Muffet wondered if she was going to mention what had happened the other day, but she didn't bring it up at all.

Of course Muffet had brought Lovett again. Toriel wasn't sure what to make of the loud little spider, who ran around the house with seemingly limitless energy.

"She's only exploring," apologised Muffet. "She's actually quite clean. I'm sorry, she hates being left behind…"

Toriel didn't truly mind. "Just try to keep her out of the spare room, please," she said.

Muffet had never been inside the 'spare room'. It was the only room that they hadn't touched while unpacking Toriel's things. Still, everyone was allowed to have their mysteries.

They chatted peacefully as they sat around the table. Both had cups of tea, and Toriel had given Lovett a biscuit, which she gnawed under Muffet's chair.

"Please tell me about yourself," said Toriel. "I would very much like to know more about you."

Muffet spoke for a little of the spiders' adventure, and how they made it to the Ruins. She reached the part where she found Lovett, and stretched below her chair to scratch her on the back.

"I enjoy writing," she said. "I suppose it must be difficult not to, if you travel frequently. And I love cooking! Especially desserts. We all do, really, it's a tradition of ours."

"I am glad to hear that," said Toriel. "I do, as well… though I am sure my baking cannot compare. I have heard much of spider cooking."

Muffet grinned, flashing her fangs. "Only good things, I hope!"

"Of course, dear." If there had been a flicker of hesitation, Muffet hadn't noticed it.

"Not that we've been able to do much cooking, lately," she sighed. "We've been on the move for so long that we haven't been able to do any shopping. And shops do not always serve us."

Toriel gasped. "What do you mean?"

"Not everyone is as pleased to meet spiders as you have been, Toriel," said Muffet with a smile she hoped wasn't too grim. "Some seem to think of us as pests… or fear that we'll steal from them."

"That is terrible! If I were to catch a shopkeeper doing that, they would lose their business."

Muffet laughed. "And I appreciate it. But at least we're here now… not that we could buy ingredients here, either."

"Would you like to use my kitchen?" asked Toriel. "I find cooking with someone rather fun. And I have plenty of ingredients! I would love to try your cooking."

"Really?" Muffet swung her legs beneath her in enthusiasm. "That would be marvellous! We should make a day of it… The others will be so excited! If you wouldn't mind a house full of us."

"Of course not. I meant it when I said I'd like to meet you all! Would you be able to come again tomorrow? I will make all the necessary preparations. What would you like to make?"


Dear diary,

One often begins a journal entry by describing how they feel, do they not? The idiom 'with a heavy heart' comes to mind, yet (even aside from being dreadfully cliché) it is not fully suitable to my needs; to my mind, it bears an association with sorrow, despair, or regret. I would sooner use the phrase to describe the natural reaction to being overwhelmed by poignant beauty. Or, to put it another way, simply to refer to a not necessarily negative fullness of emotion. Unfortunately, it is the best and briefest choice of words that currently fits my mood, and so with this caveat in mind I will recommence my entry.

Dear diary, it is with a heavy heart that I pen these words. Today, I made good on my promise to visit Toriel again. I brought Lovett with me, too. She looked like such a darling after I had tidied her up and given her a little ribbon! She was indulgent enough to not put up a fuss, bless her. But when we reached Toriel's house, there was nobody there, so we went for a walk instead. By some stroke of fate, we crossed paths with her, but I almost wish we had not. When we found her, she was planting flowers in a secluded room directly connected to the surface, and I fear we interrupted a deeply private moment. She told me that the flowers had been a favourite of her children, and wept for a long time. I do not think I will ever forget how she looked, sitting among golden flowers in that natural light which graces these halls so sparsely. It was enough to make my heart ache, and continues to be – yet it was also a beautiful scene, in a way. I do not think she minded the interruption terribly, but even so, I believe she would rather be left alone when she's with her flowers, in the future.

I think I will try her house again tomorrow. I would rather she not be alone too long in as troubled a time as this.

Muffet~


Dear diary,

I lied. I didn't visit 'tomorrow' at all. I waited an extra day. I know there wasn't truly a reason to have delayed, but it occurred to me that Toriel might be embarrassed after having been seen so vulnerable. It was a shameful thought – she is surely not that kind of person. But perhaps I am overthinking things – she made no remark on it and seemed grateful to have company.

I decided to bring Lovett again. Toriel hadn't been able to properly meet her the other day, after all. She didn't quite know what to do with her, at first! Little Lovett was very excited to have a new place to explore. But I think they got along well, in the end – or at least once Toriel had given her a treat~

It was a nice, peaceful evening. We drank tea and tried to get to know each other better. I told her a little more about how it was we came to find ourselves in the Ruins, and she appeared to listen intently. It was pleasant to share our story with someone other than a book.

She said there 'wasn't much to say' about herself, and seemed to prefer listening. I am afraid she does not think herself very interesting. I wish there was a way to tell her this isn't so!

By happy coincidence, I mentioned my love for cooking, and she revealed her own. In the end, she invited us all to cook together! How exciting! It feels like it has been a very long time since we've cooked in a proper kitchen. Everyone else was very happy to hear this news, too! I wonder what they'd like to bake.

This does raise the question of what on earth I'll do with Lovett, though. Leaving her behind is out of the question, but I can't have an energetic little muffin running about a busy kitchen with free reign. I just know she'd make a mess! I wonder if she'll tolerate being leashed… If things are looking dire, I'll have to distract her with treats. Such a spoilt spider!

Our cooking date is tomorrow afternoon. I think Toriel has figured out we prefer to keep our outings as close to nighttime as possible. I'm grateful, of course, but I do hope she's not going too out of her way for me…

Yours,

Muffet~


My dear diary,

We've just come home from an afternoon of baking with Toriel. What a wonderful day it has been! I hadn't seen a kitchen crawling with spiders in a very long time, and it was truly a gladdening sight. I was worried she would be a little overwhelmed by the sheer number of us, but she held her composure as well as before. Everyone was completely smitten with her, of course, and left her side with great reluctance. I'm afraid they might have a new favourite! Teehee~

We made so much! The rest of the spiders decided they wanted to bake spider brownies. I think they wanted to impress Toriel with a specialty of ours, the dears. Though doubtless more than a little mischief played a part as well: I caught them wondering aloud if she would be able to guess the secret ingredient. I'll get back to that later.

I , instead, chose to help Toriel with her favourite pie – cinnamon and butterscotch. How delightful! She confessed to be quite prone to 'stress baking', and told us she was glad to have a happy reason to make her favourite again.

I must reiterate, dear diary, that it's marvellous to see spiders in a kitchen! I don't believe I could ever grow tired of the sight. Watching them balance cups of flour on their backs and pass tasting spoons between them would help anyone forget their troubles. I've always thought it's like seeing poetry in motion. Toriel remarked that it resembles a synchronised dance. We all rather liked that!

Lovett supervised us as we worked. We needed to give the poor dear a leash in the end – cooking is delicate work, especially when spiders are involved, after all. She didn't like that! But something to eat was enough to make her forget all about it. Sometimes I think food is all she ever thinks about! But it was good to have her with us.

I think we all had a lot of fun. Toriel seemed happy. I tried to talk to the other spiders using common speech for her benefit – just so things don't get too quiet. I think she liked all the company. And as she talked us through her cinnamon and butterscotch pie, I remembered how Poppet used to teach me how to bake. It was lovely.

Everyone loved the pie, of course. It wasn't like anything we had baked before. I gave a tiny slice to Lovett, and she seemed to like it, too, though I doubt her tastes are too discerning! Toriel, the expert, was pleased with it, and that was enough for me. I thought it had a very comforting taste, somehow. Though I think it could have used a few spiders~

The brownies were a nostalgic success, too. Toriel liked them, and commented on their interesting crunch, and almost nutty flavour. She made the most exquisite expression when I told her that the responsible ingredient was spider! The poor girl looked quite scandalised, even when I explained that we only cook with discarded exoskeletons. She laughed it off in the end, though, and admitted that it was a clever way to avoid wastefulness! (However, she did request that we never put spiders in pie crust without letting her know.)

It was a fabulous time, and we're all quite exhausted and happy. I don't know if I feel like dancing, or like a long nap. Baking puts us all in a good mood! We left the excess brownies with Toriel as a gift, and she insisted we take the rest of the pie to finish.

I think Toriel and I are becoming wonderful friends. I hope we continue to see each other as often as we have. I wonder when Napstablook will return to visit from their farm? I'd like them to meet her, one day.

~Muffet!