Is It Wrong to Crave Love (In A Dungeon?) Chapter 24 - Strength

“Thank you again for the hospitality, Lady Freya.”

In many, many ways, I believed, things could have gone worse. Admittedly, I did have my qualms with the maids who insisted on dressing me. For whatever reason, my attempts to convince them that I could dress myself just fine continued to fail. As I was the guest and Lady Freya was my host, however unwittingly, I knew better than to insist more strongly than needed.

The fact that they all refused to meet my eyes told me they were not quite as pleased with my unannounced presence as Lady Freya was. Not a single one of them looked me in the face, and when I spoke, they got incredibly red and incensed, speaking in short, rough, harsh tones that gave me the feeling they really, really would rather not dress me or even be around me.

One of the oddest things was that they tried their hardest to avoid actually touching my body despite dressing me. On asking, I’d learned they had been informed, specifically, by Lady Freya, not to touch me at all. Try as I might, what intent the Goddess had by giving such an order eluded me. 

I did not think too much about it. Orario was an odd land filled with odd customs, so it was entirely possible that not physically touching me had to do with a custom I was unaware of. 

My normal clothes, given by Lord Takemikazuchi, were washed, cleaned, dried, and folded neatly, provided to me in expensive leather bags to be carried as I made my return, along with my staff and Lady Hephaestus' gift, both retrieved from the water. A different attire had been provided, prompting me to abandon the Japanese kimono aesthetic and adopt the Victorian Era aesthetic.

A part of me had been confused because I was all but certain Lady Freya was a Norse Goddess, but it was not something I was going to question. My goddess, Lady Hestia, was a Greek Goddess, but didn’t exactly quite wear what one would expect of a Greek Goddess, and there was Lady Loki, who wore jean shorts.

If jeans, invented by Levi Strauss for laborers during the Gold Rush, could be worn by a Norse Goddess in Orario, who was I to question how another Norse Deity had a Victorian Era suit in her wardrobe?

…The gods really can do anything.

The shirt was similar to fine white linen, and the material was not cotton; rather, it was not a material that I knew. The fabric was smooth and silky, crisp, and yet firm, and any attempt to grasp what it was made of with the same ease as it grasped the sound of a hammer striking steel came back with a resounding negative. The more I tried, the more negatives I got. Hundreds of question marks, and myriads of null responses as if I’d entered a wrong equation on a calculator.

Whatever the material was made of was above and beyond my understanding. 

The collar was detachable, the cuffs, too, were detachable, and felt almost starched and ironed. The cufflinks, however, were made of something I could grasp instinctively. Orichalcum. The engraving on it wasn’t discreet at all, being marked with the Familia Sigil of the Freya Familia. 

I made a mental note to remove it as soon as I was out the door.

The attire came with a sleek black necktie knotted in a Windsor knot, and a waistcoat cut close, with a dull, silvery-gray color that almost perfectly matched Lady Freya’s hair. Not only her, but it oddly reminded me of another person’s hair, and for a moment had me questioning if the material was—

I dismissed the idea.

It would be preposterous to consider.

The long black twin-tailed coat was far better. Dark as charcoal, it all but absorbed the light around it, and the material strangely felt like it was made of feathers. Calling it a feather coat wouldn’t be inaccurate, especially with the twin tails that flapped when I moved. 

By the time they were done dressing me, I stood in front of a mirror and saw… myself. 

A part of me felt as if I was a cosplayer who wouldn’t be out of place standing side-by-side with Geppetto’s Puppet and Father Gascoigne. 

The maids must have thought I looked ridiculous as well, considering how eerily quiet they were, and how much they continued to avoid looking at my eyes, only shooting darting gazes at my reflection. They were, however, nice enough not to comment on it. 

How did she have something that’s my size?

I was aware of how skinny I was. Finding something that fit me perfectly was not easy, yet the attire did fit me perfectly. Ridiculous as it was, it was a perfect fit. That and the suit, despite being designed for aesthetics, was incredibly breathable and comfortable. I felt I could do backflips and frontflips in it if needed.

The quality of craftsmanship, along with the inexplicable nature of the materials, whispered to me immediately:

Divine Craftsmanship.

The suit Lady Freya prepared for me was not crafted by mortal hands. 

All the same, it felt strange wearing a tie again.

When I’d walked out of the dressing room, Lady Freya had already been waiting, and she had made a sound that was a cross between a hum of appreciation and a sigh of exasperation.

“You… really are quite a greedy man, aren’t you?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Lady Freya.”

“Have you seen yourself in the mirror?”

“I have…?”

“What did you see?”

I did not understand her words. “I saw… myself…?”

Lady Freya only shook her head and laughed. “Of course.”

I chalked it up to a matter of Divinity, and her seeing and grasping things my mortal eyes could neither understand nor fathom. Yet, despite her inexplicable behaviour, she had been the most gracious of hosts. She even went to the trouble of sending someone to help get Lilly, so we could return to our goddess together. 

All things considered, Lady Freya was a delightfully reasonable goddess.

There was nothing quite about her that was even true to the few rumors I had heard. Aside from her attire, of course, which under normal circumstances I would say left little to the imagination, but considering I had already seen everything underneath that attire as we exited the bath, there was scarcely a need for my imagination to work hard.

“Might I know where you attained this, Lady Freya? It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen in Orario.”

“One of many would-be suitors crafted it specially for me,” Lady Freya said simply. “He was a god with… odd tastes. The feather coat, on the other hand, is something I’ve had for a while.”

“Once I return home, I’ll ensure to—”

“If you complete that sentence, you’ll displease me greatly.”

I snapped my lips shut.

“It is a gift. Take it as such. Any talk of returning anything and you will earn my wrath. Do you wish to earn my wrath?”

“I have many things I wish for, Lady Freya, but angering the Divine will never be one of them.”

Lady Freya smiled. “You are surprisingly well-spoken for a former coachman.”

I chose my words carefully. “You learn a few things, Lady Freya, transporting people from all walks of life, and conversing with them for your livelihood.” 

“Oh? So, you really were a…?” Lady Freya’s brows furrowed. “How curious. I could have sworn it was simply something you made up.”

Something I…?

I blinked.

Why would anyone lie about being a coachman?

Lady Freya walked up to me, walked up beside me, and her hand gently adjusted my tie as she patted my shoulder. Our gazes met. She was—

…Huh.

A brief thought came that her height was almost, somewhat identical to someone else’s height… though off by a few inches due to the heels she wore. I was taller than her, by a fair margin, but there was that persistent feeling at the back of my mind that she was familiar.

“Your staff and other belongings have been arranged neatly. Ottar should be here soon with your companion. Then, both of you may depart.”

I sensed something in her words. “You do not wish to meet my companion, Lady Freya?”

“I’m afraid not. Any meeting between myself and others tends to be the same. It gets wearisome when conversation is one-sided.”

Lady Freya smiled. Yet, even I, lacking as I was in foresight, could see how the smile did not reach her eyes.

“Few people can stand in my presence, and casually converse, without needing to lift their jaws from the ground, or wipe the drool off their chins.”

“You have nothing to worry about, Lady Freya,” I said. “I’m fairly certain Lilly isn’t attracted to beautiful women.”

Freya laughed.

“My, you’re adorable.”

She stared into my eyes. The fake smile was gone, and the real smile returned.

“Then, it’s better the poor girl does not meet me, lest you discover just how quickly that can change.”

I did not argue. I would not. I could not. A part of me felt it, that it was possible, somehow, that Lilly would see Lady Freya and be entranced by her. For some reason, Lady Freya wanted to avoid this.

I did not know if it was for my sake—

Or if it was for hers.

“Thank you again for the hospitality, Lady Freya.”

“It is hardly a matter of note. ”  

Lady Freya walked past me, and only after she did so, did my mind catch up and sense that her lips had pressed on my cheek. Light, soft, fleeting and chaste, her lips brushed on my right cheek with all the brevity of a wit-drenched one-liner.

“However, in the future, do kindly remember to knock first.”

I stood there, in a momentary daze, as Lady Freya departed.

It occurred to me that for the second time in one day—

I had been kissed by a goddess.

=====)+(=====

Lilly was being kidnapped.

Lilly had not dared breathe the moment the giant, muscular, mountain of a man appeared out of nowhere. No, Lilly did not dare breathe. Lilly’s first thought was that this was a bad dream. Lilly’s second thought was that Lilly had inhaled too many fumes from the ingredient shop. Lilly’s third thought was that Lilly had imbibed some of that good Prum leaf, and it had dulled and slowed Lilly’s mind. 

The sight of the man, with his rounded bear-like ears on either side of his head, was enough to instill fear in every monster and awe in every adventurer. Even the shop which she had been in had gone absolutely silent the moment he appeared. Silent, because not a single person had noticed the door open, or noticed the moment he walked in. He was big, he was large, he was scary, scary, scary, yet he was quieter than a mouse and moved with the grace of a cat. There was no one in Orario who did not know who he was. There was no one in Orario who had not heard of him.

The shopkeeper had choked on his pipe and smoke; the other shopgoers had frozen as if hit by ice-element magic. Lilly, there, with Lilly’s giant backpack stuffed with items, looked tinier than a shrew, smaller than a gerbil, in contrast to the tall, massive, monster of a man. 

“Come with me.”

The word ‘no’ had, at that moment, escaped entirely from Lilly’s vocabulary. Not that Lilly was given a chance to even utter that word, because the man had picked Lilly up scruffily by the giant backpack Lilly carried, which was filled with all the items purchased for the Hestia Familia. He carried it, and Lilly both, like a small kitten, and proceeded to exit the shop and head upwards, ascending the stairs.

Lilly was being kidnapped.

Lilly was being Lilly-napped.

Lilly was being Lilly-napped by the Strongest Adventurer in Orario.

Ascending the steps up the Babel Tower, Lilly’s thoughts were a mixture of doubting Lilly’s objective reality and questioning whether or not someone had put Lilly under some form of grand illusion magic. Lilly’s thought went to every action Lilly had ever committed in Lilly’s life, the good, the bad, the ugly, the exhilarating and the mortifying. Lilly searched deep in Lilly’s heart and Lilly’s soul for answers, but even Lilly’s soul could only shrug and slap empty hands over each other, presenting no solution and no recourse.

W-w-what did Lilly do…?

Did Lilly annoy the Freya Familia? No, no, no! Lilly didn’t! Lilly didn’t! Lilly never stole from the Freya Familia as a supporter! Lilly never… Lilly can’t even if Lilly wanted to! They don’t need supporters like Lilly!

The Freya Familia was undoubtedly leagues above and beyond the usual targets Lilly stalked and tricked. It was impossible. It was unfeasible. It was unthinkable. Lilly had never ever crossed paths with them! Never ever! Never ever ever! 

Despite this being all but certain, Lilly was still being held like a cat and being carried upwards, ascending to the top of Babel, to the floor where, Lilly had heard, belonged exquisitely to the Goddess, Freya.

Lilly… Lilly is dreaming. Lilly must be dreaming. Wake up, Lilly! The Mister… The Mister needs you! Wake up!

“Lilly is dreaming… Lilly is… just dreaming… Lilly needs to wake up…”

Lilly mumbled under her breath, mumbling the words ‘wake up’ and ‘wake up, Lilly’ time and again.

“What are your thoughts on Moses Vanderzee?”

The voice broke Lilly out of her repeated mumbles and made Lilly’s entire body stiffen. There was no doubt anymore that Lilly was not dreaming. No, Lilly absolutely was not dreaming! Lilly was certain now, because the question that had been asked all but confirmed that the reason Lilly had entered the sights of the Freya Familia had nothing to do with Lilly, but everything to do with—

MISTER!!!!! 

Lilly screamed inside.

WHAT DID YOU DO, MISTER?!

WHY IS OTTAR ASKING LILLY ABOUT YOU, MISTEEEEERRR?!!!

At no moment, and no time, in Lilly’s life, did Lilly believe there would ever be an opportunity where Lilly got to see, let alone speak with, Orario’s Strongest Adventurer. Now, because of the Mister, Lilly was being asked questions directly by the man himself.

“The M-Mister— M-M-Moses is Lilly’s… C-Captain,” Lilly stammered. “L-Lilly t-trusts him… a-and Lilly… thinks the M-Mister is g-g-great. Lilly, yes… Lilly r-really—”

“Do you love him?”

Lilly went stiff. So stiff, Lilly could have been mistaken for a log or a piece of driftwood. Lilly’s neck strained as it moved to stare. Stare.

…Is Lilly really dreaming? No, no, maybe… Lilly really is dreaming. There is no way… There is no way such a question could be asked to Lilly.

If anyone told Lilly that one day, Orario’s Strongest Adventurer would be inquiring about her love life, Lilly would not hesitate to pounce on them and beat them black and blue. So, clearly, Lilly was dreaming. Either Lilly was dreaming, or…

“H-hey… i-impersonating the Strongest Adventurer in O-Orario isn’t smart, you know…!”

This Ottar was an imposter! A fake!

That must be it!

There was an odd twitch on the man’s face. “...You think I’m an imposter?”

Of course Lilly thinks you’re an imposter!!!

Lilly bit her lip. “W-w-why else w-would you be asking if L-Lilly— if L-Lilly is in l-l-l-love w-with—”

Lilly’s face heated up.

It did not occur to Lilly to note that ‘Do you love him?’ and ‘Are you in love with him?’ were two different questions. It did not occur to Lilly at all that there might be a difference. 

Thus it was, Lilly answered as though the question asked was the latter, not the former.

“L-Lilly… L-Lilly hasn’t known the M-Mister for l-long! S-so— so—” Lilly stammered. “The Mister… s-saved Lilly… then… he didn’t a-abandon Lilly… which was… nice… and the M-Mister… helped Lilly… even though he didn’t need to… and… h-he… he’s…”

The question flustered Lilly more than the person who asked it.

“T-the Mister c-can be annoying! After he s-s-saved Lilly, he started s-saying all s-s-sorts of weird things… and… o-one thing led to a-another, and… and… Lilly… Lilly… Lilly isn’t… the Mister is…”

What… What is Lilly saying?!

“B-but— y-you… why are you asking me about the Mister? Who are you, really? W-what do you want with Lilly?”

“My Mistress asked to retrieve you for him.”

Eh?

Lilly blinked.

Ehh?

Lilly blinked again.

EHHHH?!

Lilly needed to unpack the sentence. Yet no matter how much Lilly attempted to unpack the sentence, all the details wrapped within it painted a picture that was almost too ridiculous to believe. The first was that the Mister had somehow managed to get himself acquainted with the Goddess, Freya, and the second—

“Y-you— you’re not an… i-impost—”

“No.”

Lilly’s face burned. Lilly’s head spun. 

He… he really was the Ottar?!

But if he was…

“W-w-why are you… w-why would you a-a-ask Lilly about…”

“If he is someone who cannot win the hearts of those around him, he would not be worthy.”

Worthy? The words made Lilly’s breath hitch. “W-worthy..? Worthy of… w-what?”

Ottar did not answer. They continued their ascent up the stairs in a silence so thick that Lilly almost would have preferred to be back in the Dungeon, surrounded by dozens of Kobolds and staring death in the face. Silence so thick, Lilly could have cut it up into pieces and sold it to bars and taverns and used it to drown rowdiness and drunken revelry.

…W-what sort of… s-s-situation is this?!

“U-um… S-Sir… M-Mister Ottar… s-sir… Lilly… isn’t sure… if M-Moses… did something bad. D-did he?”

“No.”

“T-then… is he… safe?”

“Yes.”

Lilly let out a breath.  “M-Moses is a good person, r-r-really! L-Lilly… would like to apologize if t-the Mister did s-something weird… h-he… is new to Orario. But he means well! Really! The Mister… he… means well… so… so…!” 

“You said you have not known him for long.”

It was not a question.

“Y-yes.” 

“Yet you could not answer my question.”

His question…? Lilly’s face burned again as the question came back to the forefront of her mind. Does Lilly… Is Lilly in l-l-l-love with—?

“T-that— t-that’s because it— it’s not a f-f-fair question!” 

Lilly’s face was burning hotter and hotter. The way he said it made it sound like he was certain that Lilly was—

But Lilly wasn’t!

Was… Lilly?

No, no, no, no, Lilly wasn’t!

Besides…

“L-Lilly… d-doesn’t know… L-Lilly isn’t sure…”

Lilly doesn’t know what love feels like.

What did it mean to love someone anyway? How was Lilly supposed to understand something like that? Lilly had seen it, seen couples, and seen spouses, and seen all sorts of things, and Lilly had heard the occasional stories of mothers doing things because they loved children, but Lilly didn’t understand it. Lilly could not grasp it. 

Everything people said about love made it sound like some form of status ailment, like some sort of severe sickness similar to Soma addiction.

“B-b-besides, t-that sort of thing t-t-takes time! Y-you need… t-t-time for… time to… k-know if you…” Lilly hesitated. “D-don’t you need time?”

“Are you asking me?”

Was Lilly really asking him? Asking him? How in the world did this situation ever arise? How did Lilly find Lilly asking Ottar if one needed time to know if they were in love with someone?

How did this happen?!

Despite it, somehow, some part of Lilly found the courage to nod. Some part of Lilly found the courage to speak.

“Y-y-yes! L-Lilly is a-asking… you… Sir… Ottar… Sir.”

Ottar did not say a word.

His silence was more embarrassing to Lilly than the fact that Lilly had asked him the question. If Lilly could bury Lilly’s face into the sand, Lilly would.

However, this wasn’t as embarrassing as Moses’ teasing. Moses teased Lilly so often and so much, Lilly was beginning to get worried that Lilly would forget what it felt like to be embarrassed.

“You are an Adventurer.”

Ottar spoke at last.

“Y-y-yes…?”

“Do you trust your instinct?”

Instinct? Lilly did. Lilly had always trusted Lilly’s instincts. Lilly’s gut feelings. It was Lilly’s gut feelings that often prevented Lilly from entering really, really bad situations. Lilly’s gut instincts had told Lilly, at the time, that continuing to steal from adventurers with everyone searching for the Upper Floor Ghost was a bad idea, but Lilly had no choice but to do so. Anytime Lilly went against Lilly’s instincts, things always went badly. Things always went wrong. 

Lilly’s instincts were often the thing which saved Lilly from danger, and the thing that allowed Lilly to survive as long as Lilly had.

“Y-yes,” Lilly answered firmly. Strongly. “Lilly… Lilly trusts Lilly’s instinct.”

Ottar’s eyes landed on Lilly. There was a momentary flicker of something that had Lilly almost freeze.

“The stronger you become, the better your instinct,” he said. “Instinct is the unconscious mind processing behaviors, cues, signs, and warnings faster than the conscious mind. In the Dungeon, an instinctive feeling of wrongness or rightness will be what saves your life. Not a deliberate calculation. Not seconds, or minutes, or hours spent in thought and consideration. It will always be one moment: a moment born of instinct.”

Ottar’s gaze traveled back up the stairs.

“The Dungeon is littered with the corpses of those who needed time to confirm what their instinct already divulged.”

Lilly’s breath hitched. Lilly did not speak. Lilly could not speak. The answer to Lilly’s question was there, and Lilly was not foolish enough not to grasp it. No, Lilly was not foolish enough not to grasp it.

Instinct.

At the same time, Lilly found a newfound appreciation for this man. The Strongest. He had always sounded so terrifying in the stories Lilly heard, but, rather than being scary, he was actually…

Nice?

Lilly’s throat burned. A question came. One Lilly wondered was too large to ask, yet Lilly had always been the sort to ask questions when Lilly shouldn’t.

“C-Can… Lilly…” Lilly began.. “C-Can Lilly be strong… too, one day, like… you… Sir Ottar… Sir?”

“Do you have a reason, beyond yourself, to be strong?”

A reason, beyond… Lilly… to be strong?

A reason beyond Lilly. 

Before, when Lilly was still at the Soma Familia, Lilly’s answer would have been different. For the only thing Lilly lived for, the only reason Lilly awoke, the only reason Lilly found it possible to drag Lilly out bed, to wear clothes, to eat what little meals Lilly could afford, to wake up, struggle, strive, and enter the Dungeon, and put on false smiles and fake words and get people to trust Lilly so Lilly could backstab them, and then go to bed and do it again, and again, and again—

Lilly’s only reason had been Lilly. 

For Lilly’s sake, Lilly endured. For the dream of one day leaving the Soma Familia, Lilly strived. Yet, Lilly never had a plan for what to do if Lilly did eventually attain that dream. Lilly had never thought it possible to attain Lilly’s dream. Lilly believed Lilly would die long before Lilly attained Lilly’s dream.

Lilly did not care much for Lilly.

But—

The Mister’s blue hair flashed in Lilly’s thoughts. Missus, he called Lilly. Lady Hestia’s warmth filled Lilly’s chest. Lilly's memory went back to the goddess hugging Lilly. Lilly grasped it, then.

Lilly grasped why Ottar spoke of instinct. For Lilly had spent years in the Soma Familia, and yet—

It did not compare to a single evening spent with the Hestia Familia.

The depth of a connection was not a thing that could be dictated by the length of that connection.

One could spend decades with someone and feel nothing.

And one could spend seconds with another, and feel everything.

“Lilly does.”

They reached the top of the stairs. A set of large ornate doors fell into Lilly’s view. Lilly spoke, and the words came softly, yet firmly. Certainly. Lilly spoke with more certainty than Lilly had ever had.

“Lilly has a reason beyond Lilly to be strong.”

They stopped at the door. Lilly’s feet touched the ground for the first time as the man set Lilly down, and his right hand landed against the door.

“Charge towards that reason. It is your adventure. If you face it unfalteringly and unwaveringly—”

Ottar pushed the door open.

“You will be strong.”