Is It Wrong to Crave Love (In A Dungeon)? Chapter 15 - Burden

The room lingered with the scent of potato-puffs.

Lilly was not overly fond of the snack Lady Hestia had bought. They had piled up in a small box tower that collapsed when the Mister, Moses, returned to the Church. Pushing the door open, the edge struck the lowest tower. Three potato-puffs rolled across the floor, coming to a rest by her feet. 

Lilly picked them up, and the Mister’s gaze had swept the room from east to west, his pupils gliding across the boxes, before landing on Lilly, a single blue brow raising. Lilly’s shoulders went up, then down, before Lilly’s gaze darted to the side, to Lady Hestia. The Goddess lay sprawled upon the bed, hugging a pillow, and surrounded by several half-eaten puffs. Mumbling in her sleep, the words that came were incoherent, but in between, snippets and sprinkles of articulacy followed, all providing comments about ‘surprising Zee.’

The Mister, Moses, kept aside his staff, smiling from his cheeks upon sighting her. Shaking his head, he pressed his index finger to his lips before he began to carry the boxes, one after the other, and put them in order. Lilly wordlessly joined him. 

With their combined efforts, their little home there, at the bottom of an old church, was tidied up. Footwear lined up, crumbs vanished, and all the half-eaten snacks found a home in a separate empty box from the ones yet untouched.

Those ones, the half-eaten by Lady Hestia, the Mister grabbed, lightly putting them against his lips, biting softly, and slowly. He offered Lilly one, and Lilly’s hands went up, as Lilly shook her head. He nodded and ate, slowly, and quietly, as they sat on the long couch, before the fireplace. It was lit, and the heat was a calming, mild, and soothing blaze. No smoke came from it, nor did any ashy scent dither with it.

“I’m sorry about this morning.”

Moses broke the silence.

“When I hugged you. I didn’t mean to be so…” He paused, searching for the word. “Handsy.”

Lilly’s hands went up hastily. “No, no, M-Mister doesn’t need to apologize.”

The memory brought a flush to Lilly’s cheeks. She took one of the potato-puffs from his hand, toying with it. Handsy was what he called it. His hands had roamed places no other hand had roamed, and squeezed places no other dared squeeze. Squeezed hard. Squeezed tight. At any moment, Lilly’s voice could have come, telling him if Lilly did not like it.

But Lilly remained silent.

“I think I’ve figured something out, solved that issue for now,” Moses said. “And, also, you called me Mister again.”

Solved…? How did one solve that?  Lilly scrutinized him. Did… did he go to the Pleasure District? Or is there another girl…?

Moses, the Mister, put another of those potato-puffs to his lips. Again, from the set half-eaten by the goddess. One hand held a potato-puff, but the other snaked around Lilly’s shoulder, pulling Lilly slightly closer. Lilly skipped a breath. Lilly did not pull away. Lilly leaned in, closer to Moses. 

“You’ve gotten my goddess’s Falna, haven’t you?”

“You can tell?”

“I can sense it,” he nodded. “You’re officially part of the Hestia Familia now. Which means, you’re mine to protect.”

A warmth settled in Lilly’s stomach. Almost instinctively, she replied, “L-Lilly doesn’t need protection.”

“Oh?” Moses teased. “Lilly doesn’t?”

Lilly’s face burned. “M-Mister is thinking n-naughty things again!”

“If you’re going to keep calling me Mister, I’ll be calling you Missus.”

“M-Missus is meant for s-someone’s wife!”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Mine.”

A squeak came from Lilly’s throat. A high-pitched, involuntary sound, one which, after its arrival, filled Lilly with the urge to bury her face in her hands.

“S-stop t-teasing Lilly!”

Moses grabbed another potato-puff, biting slowly. “You’re right. We should at least get to know each other a little better,” Moses looked into her eyes. “...As the future Missus, I really should know more about you.”

“F-f-future—” Lilly’s voice rose into a squeak again. “Don’t get ahead of yourself! Lilly hasn’t agreed to marry you.”

Moses wagged his finger.  “Yet.”

Lilly gawked at him, opening her mouth, but finding sounds hard to come from. 

“Alright, I’ll stop… I don’t think your face can get any redder.”

Lilly pouted. “You’re always teasing Lilly.”

“I can’t help it. The Missus is very teasable,” he grabbed yet another potato-puff. “But, I am serious about wanting to get to know you better.”

“There… isn’t much that’ll interest you about Lilly.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. Lilly doesn’t have…” 

Lilly’s voice trailed off. 

Nothing in Lilly’s past was good for casual conversation. 

Was Lilly supposed to talk about all the adventurers Lilly had swindled? Chat about tricking them, lying to them, and cheating them? Was Lilly meant to blather on about how there had been no other goals or dreams or thoughts in Lilly’s head beyond escaping from the Soma Familia? Was Lilly meant to discuss the old couple, who had kicked her out?

“Lilly… Lilly wants to know about you first.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you! Lilly wants to know more about you. T-then… after, we can talk about Lilly.”

“Alright, that’s a deal,” Moses agreed. “What do you want to know?”

Lilly had many questions she wanted to ask regarding the Mister. How it was he leveled up so fast, why it was he could use Concurrent Casting, how his skill worked, where he came from, what he liked, what he disliked—

There was no end to the questions Lilly had, but Lilly, shrewd, decided to start with something small. Lilly’s gaze landed on the potato-puff in his hand, the sixth or seventh one he’d eaten thus far.

“What is Mis— Moses’ favorite food?”

“Anything made with love.”

Lilly’s cheeks puffed; she pointed her finger. “Lilly wants a serious answer!”

“I am serious,” Moses said. “It’s my favorite. Anything cooked with love. I didn’t—” Moses paused. “They say it makes all the difference. Someone cooking something for you, with all their heart.”

Lilly’s finger dropped. “O-oh.” 

Food made with love. 

Lilly could not… remember when Lilly had eaten something like that either.

“What’s… Moses’ second favorite?”

“Surprise Soup.”

“Eh?”

“It was what we ate almost every night at my orphanage. We called it Surprise Soup,” Moses’ gaze went far away, with a fond smile. “The surprise was whatever the Matron put in. Some days, carrots and ginger. Sometimes, chickpeas and black-eyed-peas. Most of the time, it was vegetables. On special occasions, holidays, we’d find large chunks of beef and chicken.”

His hands moved about, animatedly, as he talked. “The biggest chunks of chicken in Surprise Soup always went to the champion of Sword Drill, so I often stayed up late, memorizing passages on nights before each holiday.”

Lilly’s brows went up. “Sword Drill?”

“Ah, it was…” Moses scratched the back of his head. “A game. For kids. We’d all line up holding a book of scriptures. The Matron would shout ‘Attention!’ and we’d pretend the books were ‘swords’ kept at our waist. Then, a random verse from the scripture would be called out, following the command, ‘Draw!’”

“The fastest person to open the scripture, flip to the correct page, the correct line, and read it aloud to completion would be the winner.”

Moses’ eyes twinkled, and he laughed, breezily, airily. His laugh made Lilly’s heart skip. Lilly’s breathing quickened. Lilly moved in closer, just a bit, slowly, and carefully.

“You know what’s funny? We were encouraged to cheat by memorizing as many verses as possible and pretending that we'd gotten to the page even though we hadn’t,” he grinned. “The Matron considered it an acceptable win, because, if you could recite a completely random verse from memory without even opening the scripture to check… You earned the win, and you earned more chicken chunks than the others.”

A question emerged from Lilly’s lips before it could be stopped. “And if you didn’t win…?”

“Well…” Moses scratched his head. “You’d try harder to win. You’d keep trying. The Matron always hugged the winners after each game as a tiny reward to go with the extra chicken chunks. As long as you love the Lord, she’d say, you’ll be loved too,” Moses paused. “She was big, and warm, and smelled nice, so we always wanted to win.”

His smile faded.

“We always wanted to win.”

The sound of Lady Hestia’s breathing, her occasional mumbles, and the crackling of the flame in the fireplace were the only sounds that could be heard. Lilly bit her lip. The instinct to ask had come without thought, and Lilly lamented the impulse that had been followed.

It was an instinct ingrained; to look at the worst of things, to consider the bad of things, to see the terrible aspects of things. It was a compulsion, one Lilly relied on to survive, and one Lilly did not know how to get rid of.

Lilly was not sure if it could, at all, be rid of.

“Lilly… Lilly didn’t mean to… bring up bad memories.”

Moses’ eyes twinkled. “Bad memories? Those were the best years of my life!”

“You…! Mister is teasing Lilly again!”

“The Missus is being teasable again.”

Lilly resisted the urge to grab her hair or to grab him, her hands instead playfully patting against his arm. “Joking about that being the best years of your life…! Bad Mister! Bad Moses! Naughty!”

Moses’ smile only grew. “I… wasn’t joking, though?”

“You’re still teasing Lilly!”

“Okay.. okay, no more teasing…” he said, before softly mumbling. “For now.”

Lilly huffed, glaring at him. Best years of your life being in an orphanage and competing for chicken… Mister, you can’t really mean that…

“What about you, Missus?”

Lilly bit her lip at the nickname. “Me…?”

“What would you say were the… best moments of your life?”

Lilly’s glare lost its heat. Lips opened, then closed. A flash of a memory came. Brief. Short. The old couple. Painfully, terrifyingly brief as it was, that memory had come.

“W-we’re still talking about you! N-no trying to change the topic to Lilly!”

Moses tilted his head. “Is there a reason Missus does not like… talking about herself?”

What is there to talk about?! The words almost bit out. Almost. The annoyance almost came with it. Rather, coolly, Lilly managed a blunt tone. “Lilly has nothing to talk about.”

“Sure you do. What do you enjoy doing on your days when you’re not in the Dungeon?”

“Lilly would be preparing to enter the Dungeon.”

“And when you weren’t doing that?”

...Lilly would be scouting for easy marks. 

Watching, waiting, keeping an eye out for newbie adventurers filled with naivety and optimism. If unable to find that, Lilly’s next choice of target would be those terrible, scummy adventurers whom other adventurers hated and other Supporters were wary of. Spending time, transformed with Cinder Ella, to watch as closely and carefully as Lilly could, and plan and scheme and plot the best way to lie to people and steal from them.

Was that what Lilly was to tell him? Was that what he wanted Lilly to say?

“Can… you stop asking about… Lilly, Mister?”

Lilly… does not want you to know about that side of… Lilly.

“...Okay.”

Moses nodded. 

“O-Okay?” Lilly asked.

“When you feel comfortable, Lilly… you can tell me. I’ll be waiting. However long that is.”

A heat settled in Lilly’s chest. A warmth spread down to her stomach.

“...T-thank you… Mister.”

“Anything for the Missus.”

Lilly’s cheeks filled with air again. “Y-you won’t call Lilly that in public, will you, Mister?”

“...Maybe.”

“Mister!!!”

Moses laughed as she patted him with her fists.

“Lilly w-won’t forgive you if you do! Lilly means it!”

“You won’t forgive me?”

“Lilly won’t!”

“Not even if it was my birthday?”

“Your…” 

Lilly stopped, giving him a wide-eyed look.

“Is… today…?”

“Nope. But it could be—”

“Could… be? Mister doesn’t know his own birthday?”

No sooner did the words exit Lilly’s mouth did Lilly crave nothing more than the power to take them back.

Moses told Lilly about being an orphan… and Lilly is asking that… 

Stupid Lilly! 

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

“L-Lilly didn’t mean—”

“It’s the twenty-ninth day of the eleventh month.”

“E-eh?”

“My birthday,” He wagged his finger. “Did you think I didn’t have one? That’s stereotyping, you know. Shame, Lilly. Shame.”

“You!” Lilly pounced on him. “Keep! Teasing! Lilly!”

They tussled playfully because Moses was much stronger, but he allowed her to push him to the floor and repeatedly pat her fists on his chest. Moses laughed through it all, and the sound of his airy laughter entered her ears and made Lilly’s face smoldering even hotter than before. It was hot enough to fry an egg, and the temperature in other parts of her body was rapidly rising to meet it. Lilly sat on his waist, and his hands moved to Lilly's waist.

“Well, you’re not entirely wrong,” Moses said, trying to abate her indignation. “As a foundling, it isn’t my real birthday. It's just the one I was given.” 

Lilly crossed her arms, testing the word. “Found…ling?”

“It’s a more specific term for an orphan,” Moses explained. “One that refers to infants or very young children abandoned in a way that left no clue about their identity, or that of their parents.”

It was the first Lilly had heard of it. Lilly had at least known her parents, and known who they were… but Moses…

An uncomfortable knot formed in her stomach.

“So… the date… was the day you were found, Mister?”

“Not for me,” Moses hummed. “Many foundlings use the date we were found… but, there are some of us who don’t see it as a day we were found, and more as the day we were abandoned.”

“...Oh,” Lilly whispered. “Lilly… didn’t see it that way.”

“It’s okay. It’s not quite a common view,” Moses said. “But, it is one the Matron of my orphanage had, so she didn’t remember the specific days we were found and gave all foundlings a new date, the same date: The twenty-ninth day of the eleventh month.”

“Twenty-ninth of the eleventh month…” Lilly made a mental note of the date before tilting her head. “Is there a reason that day was chosen, Mister?”

“It references a verse,”  Moses explained. “For I know the plans I have for you… plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

Lilly shuddered. Their eyes met. Lilly’s hips became overtly enlightened, now, of how it was straddling him, and of how his hands were around Lilly's waist.

“It s-sounds… nice…”

“It was.”

“What happened to… her? Your Orphanage Caretaker?”

Moses stiffened beneath her. The scent of the sea wafted from him. His eyes closed, and his breath slowed. “She’d been amongst the casualties who perished while fleeing from a powerful storm that struck our village.”

He paused, his eyes opening slowly, and smiling, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

“She, along with everyone from the orphanage she’d taken with her.”

Lilly’s hands moved to her mouth. Lilly tried to offer words, but Lilly could not find them. Lilly did not have them. 

Moses pinched her cheek.

“It’s getting late, Missus. You need to get your beauty sleep. When my goddess—” he paused. “Well, it’s our goddess, now. When she wakes up, I suspect we’ll have a lot to do tomorrow. If the number of jagamarukun she bought is any indication, I think things went well with her meeting with Ouranos.”

“Mister—”

“I also ought to go to the Guild tomorrow and let them know that I’m a Level 2, now…”

“Mister, wait—”

“I think we can also start some work on rebuilding and refurbishing the church…? I’ll need to find the proper contractors… I think I’ll ask at the Guild for a recommendation—”

“Mister!!!”

Lilly grabbed his cheeks with her hands and looked straight into his eyes.

“Ah? Yes? Missus?”

“Lilly… is your Supporter! Lilly… has sworn to help you… carry heavy burdens in the Dungeon… and…” Lilly’s face burned. “O-Outside the Dungeon, too! Mister! Let… Lilly share your burdens… You have to promise me! You won’t carry those burdens on your own! Alone!”

“Ah,” Moses nodded. “...I… will?”

“You have to promise!”

“Okay, okay, Missus. I promise,” Moses chuckled. “What brought this on all of a sudden…?”

“You — you’re…” Lilly bit her lip. “You’re stubborn! That’s why!”

Lilly had not seen it until the end. Nothing in Lilly’s past made for good conversation, and the same was true for Moses. He asked about Lilly because he did not want to talk about himself, the same way Lilly asked about him because Lilly did want to talk about Lilly. 

This was because all conversations regarding themselves—

All of them were painful.

His favorite food. His birthday. His past hobbies. His childhood.

Every single memory was painful, the same way it would pain Lilly to bring up her time in the Soma Familia. Recalling trauma for casual conversation was something Lilly would never do, something Lilly outright avoided doing. Yet, for Lilly’s sake…

He talked about them, joked about them, and laughed about them.

Because Lilly asked.

Taking a one-sided burden of pain, just because Lilly asked.

Lilly bit her lip tightly.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid Moses!

You… you could have just said you didn’t want to answer Lilly’s questions!

Instead of hurting for Lilly’s sake!

Lilly doesn’t want you hurting for Lilly’s sake!

“Stupid Moses! Stupid! Stupid!”

Lilly pressed her head against his chest, as a soft scent wafted from him. The exhaustion of the day’s events slowly began to weigh down upon Lilly. 

Today, Lilly was freed from the Soma Familia…

Today, Lilly joined a new Familia…

Today, Lilly got to know more about Moses… Lilly got to know that the Mister…

Is just like Lilly…

“Mister… can Lilly stay like this…?”

“You don’t need to ask, Missus.”

Lilly cuddled him, fatigue weighing down on her eyelids. Slowly, and quietly, in a set of warm arms, feeling safer than ever before… 

“...Good night, Moses.”

“Good night, Lilly.”

Lilly drifted off to peaceful sleep.

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

Within the Dungeon, an elf clad in a dark cloak stalked through the corridors. Late at night, there were few monsters to be found, and fewer adventurers still. It was at this time and this hour, the witching hour, some would call it, that the elven figure moving through the Fourth Floor came to a stop, sixty feet away from a makeshift campfire burning with a brilliant white blaze. 

She stepped forward. Closer and closer towards the campfire. As she did, all her senses screamed danger, and an unspeakable burning, an inestimable, inexhaustible heat almost consumed her. She fled backward, as rapidly and hastily as possible, raising a trembling right hand to find it almost completely seared away, down to the elbow. Moments later, the flesh wriggled and writhed like liquid mercury, yet… it did not grow back. It did not, as before, as always, re-form into a complete, pristine arm and hand, containing all digits and five fingers. The arm was gone, completely. The flame was divine in its nature, in its purification, and what was purified by it was truly gone.

Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.

There was no doubt.

The campfire could kill her.

The campfire could kill her.

Why? Why now?! Why not earlier? Why couldn’t something like this have been here earlier?! Why? Why?! WHY?!

She screamed at the top of her lungs, slamming her fist into the ground with such force that it shattered. Dust and debris exploded into the air, filling the space, as the ground beneath her became a massive, pool-sized crater.

Where had it been, those days when she was desperate to find a way to die? Where had it been during those countless attempts where she ripped out her own skin, clawed her throat, and took a knife to her chest? Where had it been, as she learned to loathe herself more than anything, than anyone, and wished nothing more than to end her horrid, wretched existence?

Where had it been?

Where?

Where?!

But now? Now that Lord Dionysus had accepted her… Now that he was the first and only one to accept her as she was, as disgusting and putrid, as she was… Now was when a means that would have ended her suffering painlessly sprang out of thin air?!

Why did something that could truly, properly kill her have to exist now? Now, when she’d dedicated herself to him?!

She bit at the fingers of her remaining left hand, bit and gnawed and bit and gnawed.

It was a problem. An unavoidable problem. Using these places as spots of respite was all but guaranteed, and if she was the only one who refused to do so, repeatedly, if she refused to even so much as approach it, not even the excuse of not wanting to be touched because she was filthy would last. 

Not even her title as the Banshee would make people look it over. Adventurers were not idiots. Someone would get suspicious. Some would want to know why she was so averse to going anywhere near these campfires which repelled monsters.

The more suspicion she gathered, the more attention she drew in that manner—

The more likely her secret would be exposed.

If her secret was exposed, then the odds would be higher that Lord Dionysus’ secret would be exposed.

She could not have that happen. No. She could not. He had saved her, saved her, with his love. He was the only one who could love her, the only one who could still love her and accept her, in spite of the thing she was. This burden of hers, she could not let him be the one to pay the cost for it.

Never.

She would carry it alone.

There’s no other option…

She got up to her feet and turned away, slowly heading towards the Dungeon’s exit. She was aware she was far from being the only one who would find that campfire a problem. The others, those her Lord allied with, and the rats scurrying through Knossos would also find this development unsuitable.

Him, the one responsible for this, the Captain of the Hestia Familia, Moses Vanderzee—

That Level One Rookie Adventurer…

He had to die.