Dog of War

They stirred awake, pulling on the sheets and blankets that engulfed them. They were in bed? When did they- 

 

Their cheeks burned crimson as memory of the prior night returned. Miss Verdun had touched them, and they were sober and it felt good. Better than anything they had ever felt, save only for the time they were on Class A. Worst of all, they felt a faint ache for more. There was a bit of worry at that, but it was distant, as though it was viewed through an opaque glass or submerged at the bottom of viscous liquid. 

 

It's not like she didn't do anything, right?

 

Miss Verdun did tell them to enjoy it, and there was something about the way she said it that made them. It was like she wasn't talking anymore, but giving an order. Not just any kind of order, but an Order . Just thinking about it made them shiver. 

 

If Miss Verdun had access to that part of us, we are already lost.

 

No matter how bad the assessment was, it was still near impossible to give it any weight. The moment they had any thought about how poor their current position was it was washed away the next, like writing in sand before the tide. There was doubtlessly Class E in their system. 

 

There's something we forgot that's more pressing; we woke up from class Z. 

 

Oh shit, if they were awake off of class Z, that meant Miss Verdun was in the room right now . Only the blankets they had inadvertently wrapped themselves in last night separated them from her. There was a small bit of nervousness that cropped up at that thought, but, well, there was no avoiding this. 

 

Maybe she won't mention it?

 

They certainly couldn't just hide in bed, she had likely noticed they were awake already. They made a show of sitting up and pushing the blankets aside, stretching as they did so. Hair fell into their field of vision and they brushed it to the side; it was getting long now. 

 

Miss Verdun was exactly where they expected to find her, near the foot of the bed on their right. 

 

The Affini smiled. "Good morning, Princess." There was something... more to her words that made them blush lightly under her gaze. Something almost musical underneath them. 

 

"G-good morning, Miss Verdun." They faced away from her and brushed their hair to the side as it fell into their eyes again. Just being near the Affini was giving them that weird fuzzy warm feeling now. They squashed it the best they could, which wasn't much. 

 

"Can I see your hand?" Miss Verdun indicated the mitt. "I would like to remove the rejuvenation brace." 

 

Oh, that was good. They wouldn't have to rely on Miss Verdun as much. "Of course." 

 

They held up the bandaged arm and she snaked a vine into the mitt, unlocking some mechanism hidden within. She wrapped another vine around their arm as she pulled it off, freeing their hand. The long sleeves of the pajamas mercifully protected their skin from the feeling of Miss Verdun's vines. They couldn't help but smile as they flexed their fingers for the first time in two days, eliciting a coo from the Affini they did their best to ignore. They examined where the cut had been. "No scar?" 

 

"Of course not," Miss Verdun answered as though they had something ridiculous. "Few Affini medical procedures leave scars. I hope you are satisfied with your current collection, because you won't be adding to it any time soon." 

 

Strange choice of words. They had seen Daisy's scar where her Haustoric Implant was, something every floret had. It was unlikely Miss Verdun hadn't thought of it before speaking, considering she desired them in that manner. Did it take a long time for an implant to be made, or was it a matter of lacking the right to force them into it until the trial? "Fine by me," they shrugged, they might be reading into it a bit much anyways. "Can you help me out of bed, please?" 

 

"Of course," Miss Verdun pulled the blankets and sheets back off of them gently. "Would you like to be carried today? Or did you wish to walk?" 

 

They fidgeted with the blanket, neither option was good. Both the prospect of being picked up twice and spending time in her vines made them feel funny. "I'll walk, thank you." At least that one felt more independent, and they could stretch their legs. 

 

Miss Verdun smiled, offering a vine for them to take when they were ready. In... Hold... Out... They grasped the appendage and were lifted up with care, their heart fluttering as expected before they were set down. A few vines steadied them on uneasy feet before retracting. "I'll follow you to the kitchen, petal."

 

They nodded, averting their eyes as they headed out of the room. Walking had suddenly become a small challenge; everything felt it was swaying slightly. They nearly stumbled as they entered the kitchen. Vines shot out and steadied them. "Th-thanks..." they mumbled. The unexpected contact and embarrassment of nearly tripping over their feet caused them to flush as they took the last few steps towards the chair. They turned towards Miss Verdun, keeping their gaze low. "Uhm, I'm ready." 

 

Miss Verdun picked them up, placing them in the chair. In front of them was a rather suspicious lumpy yellow and brown semi-circle, herbs visibly cooked into it, and melted cheese poking out from its curved side. 

 

"It's called an omelette," she explained, taking her place across from them. "Eggs, cheese, and milk, with a number of popular options for fillings. This particular one has mushrooms, ham, bacon, bell peppers, tomato, and avocado, in addition to several herbs." 

 

Hearing the ingredients listed out like that caused saliva to start pooling in their mouth, even though they didn't recognize several of them. They picked up the fork and found the omelette very easy to cut with the edge, causing some of the filling to fall out. It smelled amazing, and they eagerly took the first bite. 

 

They couldn't help but moan around the mouthful, tapping their foot against the leg of the chair as their toes curled. It wasn't just good, it was overwhelmingly

good, the flavor almost too complex for them to handle as tears welled in the corners of their eyes. Every time they chewed it renewed the flavor, and by the time they managed to swallow they were left panting. They grabbed the glass of water Miss Verdun had set out for them to wash it down, and caught a glance at her face. Utter adoration was the only way they could describe it. That fluttering returned stronger than ever as they blushed under her gaze. 

 

Do we... like Miss Verdun? 

 

Nope! They were not going to engage with that thought! Especially not with her right there . They cleared their throat. "Thank you for the food. It is incredibly good."

 

"Princess, the pleasure is all mine." Miss Verdun purred. She meant that, too; watching them eat her cooking clearly did something for the Affini. 

 

That didn't dampen their enjoyment of the following bite though, nearly as overwhelming as the first. They trembled with delight as they chewed and swallowed it. It would be sad to leave such amazing and thoughtful cooking behind, but the compiler was nearly indistinguishable. They certainly couldn't stay. They brushed aside their hair again, and took another bite. 

 

Miss Verdun broke the short silence. "You know, I was wondering about something, Princess." They slowed their chewing, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "You expressed interest in knitting and crochet; was that just picking something at random, or are you experienced with textiles?" 

 

That was... innocuous. They swallowed. "I suppose I have a bit of experience with sewing, and I've made a few articles of clothing before. Couple ghillie suits." 

 

"I'm sorry, I'm a bit unfamiliar, what is a ghillie suit?" 

 

The prospect of explaining a ghillie suit to an Affini... maybe they should have kept that part to themselves. Well, it wasn't like they could stuff that cat back in the bag. "It's unpowered camouflage for areas that are grassy or have a lot of plant life. They mostly fell out of favor with improvements in active cloaking, but since I employed EMPs and other such tactics I didn’t use those often. Very expensive to fry an ActiveCam unit. It didn't help that Terra lost most every environment where they'd be useful. Nonetheless, I found them to be handy in a few places that still have plant life. I doubt it would be effective against an Affini, but to the Terran eye they render you invisible while motionless in the proper environment." They took another bite of the delightful meal, savoring it.

 

"I see..." Miss Verdun's concern over the mention of their prior work was clear. She pulled out her pad and typed into it. "Oh!" She exclaimed, bubbling with laughter. "Princess, these are adorable ! I didn't know Terrans made military gear this cute," she added before breaking down into a fit of giggles. 

 

They had been hoping she wouldn't look into it, at least not right now. This reaction was expected, at least. "I'm sure." The price to pay for such an incredible meal, they supposed. "They're very simple to make, but you also need to trudge through a swamp until the burlap loses its shine."

 

"As absolutely adorable as it would be to see you in this, I would prefer you refrain." Miss Verdun did her best to stifle her laughter as she tucked the pad back inside. "I don't think dressing up like you're about to sneak through enemy territory would be healthy for you, Princess."

 

"I was merely explaining part of the process, Miss Verdun." They dug out another forkful. "I have little interest in wearing such a thing, especially around Affini." Damn, this was a good breakfast. Maybe the best yet. 

 

"Well I for one can't wait to see what you end up making, no matter what it is." 

 

What are we making?

 

They mulled it over as they continued the meal. They hadn't really given any thought on what specifically to make. They didn't even know what they would be skilled enough to produce. Most resources they had read recommended starting with something simple, like a scarf- something that was more less just a square or rectangle of fabric. They of course had little desire for a scarf; anything on their neck put them on edge. It seemed unlikely any of the Florets they knew would want it, even though it would hide those unsightly collars. Well, it's not like anyone had to use it. The practice alone would be good enough. 

 

The meal was gone far too soon. They scraped together the last fallen scraps of the filling for a final half-bite. They sighed with content as they finished, setting the fork aside. "That was excellent, thank you."

 

"Like I said, Princess," Miss Verdun smiled as she got out of her seat, moving to their side, "the pleasure is all mine." She proffered a vine in a wordless offering of help. 

 

Getting helped down at least didn't make them feel the way being picked up did. They took the vine and were soon lowered to the floor and steadied on their uneasy feet. They offered a brief "Thanks." before stretching their legs, grabbing the chair for balance. 

 

"Of course. Why don't you go get dressed while I clean up?" Miss Verdun retrieved clothes from inside her and offered them. It was clearly another companion dress from the visible floral designs. "I was thinking we could take a walk after you are ready, since you didn't get much time yesterday." 

 

A longer walk certainly sounded nice, there was less chance of bumping into someone from the Valiant this early. However, there was an issue at hand they needed to address before it grew worse. "Miss Verdun I appreciate your help and support with this..." They hesitated, they certainly couldn't say 'transition;' that was for trans people, wasn't it? They definitely weren't trans. Even if being perceived as a girl was somewhat pleasant, they had been okay with being a guy. "...trying out different stuff, but I'd appreciate it if you stopped giving me companion dresses. I am not your pet." 

 

"Princess," Miss Verdun giggled, "a companion dress isn't just for florets." They furrowed their brow. Weren't they? The articles seemed to indicate as much. "A companion dress is to show that you have an Affini looking after you."

 

"Isn't that kind of the same thing?" 

 

"No, Princess, they are quite different." The Affini's eyes narrowed, her voice shifting into a more authoritative tone. " Trust me."

 

They felt the words crawl up their spine. Miss Verdun did have a point, as reluctant as they were to admit that. She was taking care of them for now, and if she owned them she likely wouldn't bother going through this conversation. Or let them feed and dress themselves. She was clearly refraining from petting them, too. It was

just for a few weeks... hopefully... 

 

"I... suppose you have been looking after me." They sighed, "Alright. I'll wear it." They held out their hands and the dress was placed in them with a smile. "Can I get some stuff to polish my boots as well?" 

 

Miss Verdun's vines twitched at the mention of them. "Right..." She pulled out her pad and made several inputs. "I think today should be your last time they'll fit well enough to wear, I'll see about getting you something else tomorrow." 

 

Today was already the last day?!  

 

Did class Gs work that quickly? They were supposed to be much faster and more effective, but it was only their fourth day on them! Then again, the woman in the mirror was supposedly them after only twenty one days... 

 

The ding of the compiler cut through their complicated emotions. Miss Verdun retrieved the various brushes, oils, rags and leather balms from the compartment and placed them on top of the dress. "If you need anything, and I mean anything, please let me know, Princess. I know they mean a lot to you, and I'm here for you if you need me." 

 

Like they wanted the Affini to see them cry over something as stupid as their boots. "Thank you, I'll keep that in mind." 

 

Miss Verdun gave them one last smile as they made their way out of the kitchen back to their room. The guest room. 

 

They set the bundle of items on the desk and laid out the various things they needed to polish their boots, setting the folded dress to the side for now. It would be best to clean them before changing, to avoid soiling it with leather care material. The pajamas they were wearing, on the other hand, were about to be fed to the compiler. They retrieved their boots from nearby, and returned to the desk, setting them down, and taking a seat. As soon as they took up a rag, brush, and some leather cleaner, the weight of the moment settled on them. 

 

This is our last time. 

 

At least once a week, every week, for over two decades they had performed this ritual. They cared for their boots, keeping them in prime condition, and in turn their boots had taken care of them. They had spent years saving up for them; real quality leather was immensely expensive in the Accord, and they were one of the few possessions they had gotten almost entirely as an indulgence. Synthetic leather boots were very cheap and easily replaced, after all. Now their time together was ending and that made them... sad, despite these just being boots. There wasn't much to do about that, though. If they had to part ways they could at least give the boots the send-off they deserved. 

 

They forced themselves to begin, removing the laces to gain access to the full surface of the leather. This was something they only did once in a while; relacing them took a fair amount of time. They grabbed the cleanser, wetting the material and scrubbing every millimeter of them clean before gently wiping them dry. Dipping a rag into the leather guard next, they worked it into the material until wiping at it left no residue on their fingertips. Satisfied, they moved to the first coat of polish, taking time to make sure it was even and properly worked in. Then they did a second, and a third, doing their best to give the pair the care they deserved in their final moments together. There were still a few scratches from all the rough terrain they had conquered, a small burn from plasma runoff, a few other marks they couldn’t place. Soon it was polished to a mirror-like shine, enough to clearly see their own reflection.

 

They almost didn't recognize themselves at first, but the scars across their right cheek and left eye were a dead giveaway. Their jawline had softened, and their hair almost came down to their shoulders now. If they tilted their head to the left or right, the tips of their hair would touch them. It was jet black as always, but there was a newfound fluffiness to it, a sort of feathery look with soft waves it had never been long enough to express before. They could feel how soft it was every time it brushed against their cheeks, or fell into their face. They still had a number of distinctly masculine features, but those were not as pronounced as they had been. Their face was starting to border on androgyny now. That made them feel... it was something like anxiety, but not? It was warmer. Excited? Were they excited about this? That they were already changing was promising at least. 

 

They tilted the boots so they no longer saw themselves. That got weird, fast. There was still a distant feeling that they should do more for the boots, somehow, but they were as clean and polished as they could be. Nothing left to do but relace them. They evened the lace and threaded it through the eyelets as though it were a holy ritual, their mood reverent and meditative. Feeding it through the bottom set from underneath, and the following set from above, alternating each set. This created an X where the laces were fully on top. They repeated this until there were three Xs were the laces were crossed over atop the flange. This made loosening and tightening the laces easy, as one merely had to pull each X from either bottom to top or top to bottom. 

 

Repeating this with the other boot, they felt a surge of emotion as they finished. It was done, and they would never do this again. They blinked away tears as they began to form, and wiped at their eyes. They were not going to cry over boots! They set them aside on the floor and took a deep breath, steadying themselves. They were just boots. They had served their purpose. This was fine. 

 

They turned their attention to the dress, desperate for a distraction. They grabbed it by one end and let it unfold. It was a verdant green, with a white blouse section, and Miss Verdun's orange, pink, purple, and white flower emblazoned over the heart. There was a small pocket underneath it, clearly meant for their coin. The skirt section was composed of several large cuts of cloth shaped like leaves, which came down to around their ankles. The back didn't have a zipper, but laced up with a pink ribbon. Annoyingly, the ribbon was laced wrong . Yesterday's dress had a false corset with the same issue, but that had been sewn in. This at least they could fix. They pulled the ribbon out, relacing it the correct way. The dress was cute, but the placing of the flower that marked it as a companion dress was a bit worrying. On the skirt was one thing, but over the heart... 

 

Explaining such a thing to the Affini was daunting, and unlikely to be productive. 

 

They lay the dress over their chair. They would have to remove their current clothing before they could try to fit into it. The pajamas that they had been dressed in by Miss Verdun. The thought of the Affini stripping them out of their clothes and dressing them while unconscious made their cheeks flush. It was still immensely embarrassing that they had been reduced to such a state by a simple back and scalp massage. Almost as bad as the fact that a dull ache had settled into their skin to compliment the itching in their scalp. One more thought they had to force aside.

 

They took off the pajama top, letting out a small gasp as it brushed across their chest. Instinctively looking down to check for an injury, they discovered their nipples had become puffy and swollen. They tentatively pressed a finger into one and winced as they let out another gasp. Their body had gotten a lot more sensitive over the last week, but these were above and beyond. It was almost painful, but they couldn't help prodding at the soft flesh until a rising heat signaled them to stop. 

 

What are we fucking doing?!

 

They blushed hard as they realized they had just been fondling their budding breasts. This was hardly the time or place! Stars, what if Miss Verdun had caught them? She'd most certainly insist on 'helping,' and she absolutely would know how to handle them better than they did. It would only take her a few moments to-

 

No no no!

 

They shook their head to chase the thought away, heart pounding. Focus! They needed to focus! 

 

They pulled the pants off, revealing pink panties with lacey frills on their trim. What the hell was Miss Verdun thinking?! These were way too feminine for them! The extreme cuteness made the bulge of their cock straining against the soft material far more lewd in comparison. 

 

That wasn't the only thing that had caught their eye, now that they were fully naked outside of their underwear. Their body was starting to take on a plush-like quality. Everywhere they prodded around their hips and belly had a give to it, where before they would have only found hard muscle. Their skin was soft as hell now too; running a hand along their hip and down their thigh felt amazing . Was it the Class G ,or the body wash? Both? Something else? To be in a body this soft and silky was strange, but also intriguing. They would have to explore this more later; they had already kept Miss Verdun waiting long enough. The sooner they started their walk, the more likely they could avoid their old crewmates. 

 

They grabbed the dress off the desk and, finding the end, fed it over their head, tugging it down. Poking their arms through the appropriate holes, followed by their head, they spent a few moments pulling it this way and that until it sat right on them. All they needed to do was reach behind and tighten the ribbon, then they could put their boots on and be on their way. They reached around and- 

 

The Xs on the dress were impossible to properly grasp. Grabbing the strings of the ribbon and pulling them was fruitless, it only tightened for the first few eyelets; the slack in the lower ones would see the ribbon loosening. They tried to reach the bottom one again, wincing as they strained to contort their arm enough to grasp it. 

 

The machine chimed. "Woah there cutie, you look like you need some help!"