Chapter Text
You’re woken up by the throbbing in your arm. Unsurprisingly, it’s still broken. You groan, eyes watering, and try to shift yourself. Unfortunately, that only makes it hurt more. You cry out in discomfort and agony, and start to hear footsteps approaching you. The door to the room you’re in opens, and Toriel enters.
Huh.
So that wasn’t some weird fever dream acid trip where you met a talking flower that got his shit rocked by a nine-foot-tall goat.
That all actually happened.
“My child, are you quite alright?” She asks, crouching down next to your bed.
You move a bit so you can show her your arm, and she sucks in a breath through her teeth. “Ah. I have been better rested today, so I may be able to heal you more effectively.” Toriel breathes, taking your bad arm in her pawlike hands. A soft green glow emits from her palms and you relax, feeling a strange tingling sensation in your arm.
It feels better.
You tentatively move your arm away once Toriel retracts her hands. It’s better, but there’s still a stinging pain coursing through you as you try to move it.
“I am not able to fully heal you, but I have a solution.” She frets, walking over to the closet in your room and pulling out a long purple scarf. “Here, lend me your arm.”
You move your arm towards her and she wraps the scarf around it like a sling.
“Keep your arm like this, young one, until it feels better.” Toriel says, finishing the scarf sling by wrapping it around your neck. “I will heal you every day until the break goes away.”
You nod. “Thank you.”
She stands up, smoothing out her dress. “Hm, I believe that now is an appropriate time to get you familiar with the Ruins, if you are up for it.”
You nod, and Toriel takes your free hand and gently guides you out of the living room before you hear a large rumbling sound.
The both of you look down, and Toriel giggles while you flush with embarrassment. “Oh, my! I seem to have forgotten breakfast! Apologies, sweet one. I will make something for us to eat.” She looks you up and down once more and nods, as if thinking about something. “And a bathing robe will not be suitable attire for the Ruins… However, I have clothing that should be able to fit you.”
You thank her as she leads you to what you assume is her room and you wait patiently at the door as she walks inside. She notices that you’re not following her, and turns around with a smile. “Now, now, I need you to follow me if we are to do this; you still have to dress.”
Oh.
“R-Right.” You nod, stepping in her room as well. “Sorry, I just didn’t wanna invade your privacy.”
Toriel chuckles. “Nonsense, what is mine is yours.”
“Oh, okay.” You murmur in response as she opens the drawer to her dresser. She gasps slightly and quickly shuts it, to which you lean over to try and look.
“Do not look,” She chides, waving her finger, “those are my socks.”
You snicker a bit at that but stop at her knowing expression. “Sorry.”
She laughs as well. “It is okay, I am sure they would not fit you to begin with.”
You smile, and then she opens the top drawer.
“Ah, there they are.” She muses, pulling out a long, puffy purple skirt with a petticoat, a white, lantern-sleeved shirt, a lavender shawl, and a white lace veil with matching apron; all of which look much too small to fit her.
You can’t stop your mouth from moving before the words come out. “Those were yours ?”
Thankfully, Toriel doesn’t seem offended. “Hee hee hee! Yes, believe it or not, they indeed fit me, once.”
“And you’re… giving these to me?”
“Of course! You do need something to wear, after all, and those clothes that you had previously been wearing are… quite bloodied , I am afraid.”
You nod in understanding as she passes you the clothes. “...Thank you, Toriel.”
She grins, standing up and walking away. You turn around to see Toriel leaving the room, and she flashes you a smile behind her shoulder as she does so. “Do not worry; I will cook for us while you dress.”
. . .
It takes quite a bit of effort to get all of the clothing on, what with your half-broken arm and all. But by the time you get everything on, you can already smell something delicious from down the hall. You make your way out of the room, being sure to pick up your skirt so it doesn’t trip you (even if Toriel had a different figure when she wore this, she definitely was just as tall).
Your bare feet hitting the floor and the rustling of your new clothes must have alerted Toriel, because the large monster perks up and scurries over to you, holding two large plates towering with something that smells amazing. She’s holding them both a bit too high for you to see what they are. Tucked underneath her arm is a bottle of syrup.
“Oh, how charming! You look wonderful, my child.” She beams. “And you are just in time, too; I have made us some pancakes and waffles! I hope you do not have any food allergies.”
You shake your head in response to her concern and sit down in the smallest chair set in front of the table. “Thank you again… for everything.”
“Of course, it is the least I can do.” Toriel murmurs, setting your breakfast down in front of you along with the syrup. “Would you like something to drink? We have juice, coffee, milk, or… tea.”
She seems to hesitate before listing the last option—you assume she doesn’t like it. “I’ll drink whatever you want to,” you reply, standing up to get a glass. Toriel, however, simply shoos you back down with her hand.
“Nonsense, I will get it for you. I would not want to burden a guest!”
With a nod, you sit back down and wait for her. A few moments pass before she comes back into the room with two plates and two cups, putting one of each on the table in front of your chair, then hers.
“Now, let us eat.” Toriel says, clasping her hands together in a pleased motion before standing up to serve you. “Which do you like more?”
“...Pancakes,” you reply hesitantly, not wanting to seem greedy, “but I like both.”
“Then both you shall have!” She smiles, taking two waffles and three pancakes off of their respective stacks with a fork before placing them on your plate. Looking at them from your seat, they’re even bigger than they seemed back when Toriel was carrying them on their stacks.
Toriel seems to notice your expression and beams at you. “Why, I forgot the syrup!” She chuckles, grabbing the bottle from earlier. “Tell me when,” she murmurs, pouring it onto your meal.
“When.” You reply after a few seconds, making her giggle.
She then serves herself, pours the both of you a glass of orange juice from a large glass pitcher, and sits back down. You both start to eat. When you taste the food on your plate, you sigh contentedly. It’s wonderful—the texture is fluffy, the smell is wonderful, and the taste is absolute heaven. Toriel giggles softly at your reaction.
After a few bites, you start to feel a bit uncomfortable with the silence that hangs through the air. “...How come you didn’t know where your clothes were?” You ask, holding up your fork in an awkward attempt to get conversation flowing.
“You see, I am a silly old lady who forgets how I organize my dresser. I like to ‘spice things up’ every month or so.” Toriel giggles. “Although, that in itself may be my downfall. Hee hee hee!”
You smile at her, then decide to ask another question after a few more bites. “Are you the only one who lives down here?”
Toriel pauses mid-sip of her juice, then clears her throat after her eyes dart to the side slightly. “No, I am not. There are many monsters in the Underground,” she says, “though not all are quite as… accepting as I.”
“Like the flower?” You query, tilting your head as you remember Flowey from yesterday, who would have definitely killed you if it hadn’t been for Toriel’s interference. You shudder a bit at the thought of that encounter.
“Like the flower,” she nods, “and many of them wish to harm you.”
You furrow your brow. “Why?”
“You are a human.” Toriel replies, her expression sullen. “This world does not like those who are different; down here, it is no exception, I am afraid.”
You nod slowly, eating more of your food. Surprisingly, the more you eat, the better you feel. The pain in your arm fades a little bit with each bite you take. “Is the food magical, too?” You ask, not able to help the question that bubbles up in your mind.
“Oh! Yes, yes it is. Monster food has a special quality to it—healing. I nearly forgot! If you like, I can cook more often than usual to let you heal faster.”
You nod, savoring the flavor of the food in your mouth as you think of what else Toriel can cook. “I’d love to help, as well, if you’d let me,” you offer, gesturing with your fork, “but… maybe in a bit. I’m full right now.” You chuckle, standing up to grab your plate and cup. However, just like before, Toriel beats you to it, taking your dishes to the sink and washing them.
You pout, laughing a bit, and the monster laughs as well. “I want to help!”
“You may help when you are well.” She replies, smiling warmly down at you as she dries the dishes and puts them back in their cupboard. “Now… let us get you accustomed to the Ruins.”
With that, she takes your free hand and guides you out of the house. Toriel was definitely right about the bathrobe not being good clothing for traversing the Ruins—the chill in the air travels right through your clothes and into your spine, making you shiver from the stark contrast between the catacombs and the warm house.
As the two of you walk through the catacombs of the Ruins, a two-foot tall frog hops up to you and meows. You tilt your head inquisitively at it. You’re about to say something to it, but then you notice Toriel looming behind you with an intensely threatening aura.
The frog, seemingly noticing her too, runs away.
You stand there, a bit confused, but Toriel’s demeanor does a 180 as soon as she makes eye contact with you. She beams, her bright red eyes crinkling slightly as she does so.
That must’ve been another monster, meaning she just protected you from getting hurt again. Your eyes water a bit, wondering why this stranger was being so kind to you.
You don’t deserve that kind of treatment.
You left everything. You left everyone.
You ran away to go die , like a coward, and over what? Feeling sad? Everyone feels sad. Doesn’t mean they get to die over it.
Now you’re living with a saintly monster who’s giving you her everything. Treating you like you’re her everything.
Selfish. That’s what you are.
You feel a paw on your cheek and look up to see Toriel gazing gently down at you. Her face is wrought with concern as she gently wipes away the tears on your face. “I do not know what you are thinking, but I can assure you that whatever it is, it is wrong.”
You nod slowly, not fully believing her.
She seems to understand that, and instead of prodding, simply takes your good hand and leads you once again through the Ruins. You pass by a room full of pillars and mushrooms, a pit with suspiciously-shaped potholes, and a lot of lavender corridors before you reach a room with a singular table holding a lone block of cheese. There’s a mouse hole near it.
It’s stupid, but the thought that the cheese will always be there for whichever mouse lives near it is comforting. It makes you feel a bit better, the thought of a block of cheese staying true to its hungry mouse.
…Too bad it hasn’t been eaten.
On second thought, maybe you’re like the mouse; never going to those who help you in the end, simply turning to find a more destructive path.
Your face falls. Now you feel worse.
And you also feel really dumb, because who the hell reads that much into a mouse hole with cheese near it?
Toriel seems to notice that you’re staring intently at the mouse hole, because she speaks up. “That cheese has been there for very long. It is probably stuck to the table. Hee hee hee!”
You tilt your head, and against your better judgment, you tentatively poke at the block. It doesn’t budge. Again, you poke it, and nothing happens. Then, you grab it firmly and pull.
It’s stuck to the table.
She laughs, more heartily this time. “Oh my, it really is stuck!”
Her laugh is contagious; before you know it, you’re laughing too.
She sighs after calming down, then reaches into her pocket and pulls out an antiquated bronze timepiece. After glancing at it, she raises her eyebrows and scurries off the way you both came.
“Toriel?” You call, reaching out slightly in your confusion.
“I have an errand I must run. I will be back, of course, but this is urgent. I will leave you momentarily to get what I need, but you may explore the Ruins as you wish. You remember how to get back to the house, do you not?”
You nod slowly, putting your hand down.
Toriel takes a few more steps before jolting and whipping around to face you once again. “I nearly forgot! Please, take this. It is a cell phone. If you ever need me, please just call. I will always answer.”
“Okay.” Is all you can say as she rushes away to go do whatever she needs to do.