New day, new chapter.
As always, thanks for the faves and reviews. So we're still doing mini-stories covering the time in the trailer, but this is the last one for those and next chapter we throw ourselves into some action and then a new setting. I will admit that perhaps these have run a bit long, but I wanted to build up everyone's character. Too often in fanfics I've read over the years, people have rushed things, especially when it comes to OC, leaving them feeling over powered, deus ex, or stuff like that. I wanted to avoid that as much as I could, but the flip side of that is it takes time, they have to be around, and I know some people don't enjoy that. I've had some people say I should just have written my own original novels with them (and fucked off), which everyone is entitled to thier opinions. I have, in fact sort of done that, and have several written up now. Not sure when/where/how I'm going to publish them, but they are being around so if you like the Jarls I am open to suggestions and tips. The current stories written are more their origins than events happening now, but who knows, maybe these Steel Leashes stories are the future of the Jarls, or an Alternate Timeline. Won't know for a bit yet.
Anyways, the "adult" version of the story is still being worked on, but the mood to write pure porn hasn't quite taken me as hard as other writing has, so it's a bit slow. Link to the explicit version is: /users/Sulla_of_Rome
Chapter 23
"I can't believe you did that to Henry," Astrid said as she and Heather came in the trailer. Shego adjusted her shirt, having rushed getting dressed when the proximity alert went off. She gave Ron a sheepish, apologetic smile for having to cut their play short.
"Henry is an asshole," Heather said, giving the couple a wave and a smile. "He deserved it."
"You are aware we are a team, the nine of us?" Astrid retorted. "We have a sworn sacred oaths to aid each other."
"We also swore sacred oaths to defend the Kin," Heather shot back, "I notice that he likes to ignore that fact while invoking any oaths that would oblige me to 'aid' him in his duties. Besides, we all know why he wants me with him."
"He thinks you spend too much time focusing on Luke," Astrid said, grabbing a beer from the fridge, clearly frustrated, "And adopting his methods, many of which are unsuitable for a Jarl, much less the one of Hospitality."
"Methods you are all to happy to let him use in your stead," Heather said hotly. "Better the Dishonored bear the burden than your precious Honor be stained."
Astrid's teeth were clenched as she stood up and turned to the girl. "That is an unfair thing to say," The valkyrian woman ground out.
The small goth wasn't giving an inch. "It's true though," she said. "You're not as bad as some of them, but it's true. Willing to let him do the dirties jobs, suffer the wounds and scars and burdens, while you stand noble and proud, a beacon to be followed by the faithful." The girl spat on the floor. "Not that being such a noble figure prevents Henry from trying to work his way into my pants, or those of other women."
"Heather!" Astrid snapped.
"Don't try to deny it," Heather shot back, "He even tried Galdr Poetry last time." Astrid rocked back on her heels, looking stunned.
"What's the big deal about poetry?" Ron asked, stroking Shego's hair. "Other than most of it is pretty lame."
"Galdr is what makes it a big deal," Heather said, pulling out one of the dinning chairs and plopping into it with a jiggle of titties. "There are two primary types of magic used by the Norse and thus the Jarls. Seidr, the magic of the Vanir, which is generally worked with motions and elements, and Galdr, the magic of Odin and the Aesir, which uses words and rhymes." Shego and Ron gave her equally confused looks.
"You guys ever watch Charmed?" Astrid said, cracking open a beer. When the couple nodded, albeit slowly in Ron case, she continued. "You know how they would chant rhymes? That's galdr. Every story of every witch chanting a rhyme, was practicing Galdr."
"In fact, it was considered so powerful than in many places, the act of speaking poems was heavily restricted," Heather said, "and some even outlawed a man speaking poetry to a woman, lest he cast a spell upon her."
"And he tried to do that to you?" Ron asked, confused. Heather nodded, looking angry. Shego tried to wrap her mind around magic poetry, but decided it wasn't impossible given her Master had magic monkey powers. "For what reason?"
"To bend my will to his," Heather spat, "subtly, had he tried to brute force it he might have succeeded, but it would obvious what he had done. So he tried to be subtle, to make me think of him favorably, to consider him attractive."
"You lay a heavy accusation," Astrid said slowly, "especially for something you can't prove."
"I don't need to prove it," Heather said, "Because I have no interest in calling him out on it. Just as I have no need to be around him alone, or be pleasant to him, or not knee him in the groin when he gets too close." She smirked a rather evil smirk, "And why should I sleep with a man so lecherous as to have the clap? I care for myself too much to fuck a diseased cock like his."
Astrid groaned and drained her beer in a single go. "Children," she grumbled, "I am surrounded by petty children."
"I am an adult, thank you," Heather said primly, smoothing her skirt. "Even if I can't legally drink in the states."
"What's so bad about this Henry guy?" Ron asked, "Other than the fact he doesn't like Luke?" Shego wondered if her Master was looking for an ally given his own dislike of Blackwolf.
"He's a male feminist for one," Heather spat, catching the soda Astrid chucked at her head with one hand. She then shook said hand out, wincing.
"Oh gods, please not this again," Astrid groaned, grabbing another beer. Shego wondered if the woman drank so much as a form of self medication for dealing with her companions. She probably would too.
"What's wrong with being a feminist?" Ron asked, "I'm a feminist. So are most of my family and friends."
"If you listen to their words, nothing," Heather said primly, cracking open the soda carefully. "If you go by their deeds, everything."
"Thor's hammer, you have been hanging out with Luke too much," Astrid said, sitting at the table and burring her head in her arms. Heather gave an offended sound and Shego couldn't help but smile slightly. It would be like saying she had spent to much time with her Master. Possibly true, but she'd never agree either.
"It's just wanting equality for women," Ron said, looking confused. "And I suppose working for that outcome."
Heather gave a bark of a laugh, which made Astrid groan louder. "Equality?" the goth said, "Truly. Why are not half of all CEOs, CFOs, politicians, and so forth not equally men and women? After all, they are half the people on this planet, they should be half the rulers of the realms!"
Ron shifted, too many discussions with Luke having driven him from obvious lines like that, Shego noted. "Well, yeah..." He said, "Why not?"
"Hmmm," Heather said, "And half the garbage collectors, oil rig workers, sewer cleaners, road workers, etc? Should they not also be equally formed teams of men and women? What of nurses and teachers, should they not equally be men? What of child custody cases and alimony payments? Should that not also be split equally between men and women?"
Astrid was right, Shego reflected, the girl had spent a lot of time with Luke. While she was far more pointed and vicious, with the certainty of youth as opposed to Luke's grave-like placidity, the student had clearly sat at the knee of the master and learned his lessons well, right or wrong.
The goth girl gave Ron a piercing look. Ron, to her Master's credit, didn't back down from the stare. He did open and close his mouth, his eyes clouded with thoughts as he worked to come up with a counter point. She didn't blame him for having trouble though, while they hadn't discussed politics themselves, she knew enough to know that while he held views, they weren't things he was super active about and hadn't researched much. His biggest thought were of cooking and her, possibly in that order, she didn't mind. Not to mention his lack of sleep, panic attacks, and so forth clouding his mind.
"Now now, please do not bully my master," Shego said, nuzzling Ron's neck. "He gets enough of that from yours, little bat." Even half buried in Ron's neck she could see the blush that flooded the goth girl, and Astrids cloudy scowl at the girl.
"Sorry," Heather said, suddenly looking sad. Shego felt kinda bad. Heather no doubt wanted Luke to be her master, and lover, and everything, and he staunchly refused the girl at every turn. She'd rubbed salt in an aching wound. So she got up and went over to the girl and pulled her into a hug.
"It's okay," Shego said softly, "I'm sorry as well. I didn't think before I spoke."
"I just want him to be proud of me," she heard the girl say so softly she was the only one who could hear. The goth's arms wrapped around her.
"I'm sure he is," Shego said, just as softly, stroking the girl's hair. "You're a strong young woman, who has faced hard things and come out with your head high. There's a lot of you to be proud of." She chuckled softly, "You know, you kinda remind me of someone."
Heather looked up at her. "Really? Who?" She asked.
"You ever seen an anime called Hellsing?" Shego asked. The girl nodded her head. "I've only seen the abridged version, but can you think of another big tittied girl who's always running after her master, hoping to make him proud of her?" The girl blushed, but giggled.
"Yeah, I can." Heather said, looking less sad.
Shego turned to Astrid. "You should get this bitch a cannon," She said, making Ron snort, "Bitches love cannons."
"What the Hel are you talking about?" Astrid said, her confused face making Shego and her little friend burst into laughter.
"Gods damn it, I can believe this is actually happening! An entire weekend without the brats!" Astrid shouted joyfully from outside the trailer. "Ron, Shego, get your naked asses out here and help me with the groceries!"
Shego groaned, with rage, frustration, and need. Ron was currently buried in her to the hilt and they'd been so distracted they hadn't noticed the alert. She felt Ron start to pull back, and despite being in a doggy position, wrapped her legs around him as she reached out and locked the door. "You're finishing this Master, or so help me I will bite it off!" She growled.
She didn't bother to hide her howls of pleasure as her Master did just that. It was only afterwards that she deigned to get dressed and opened the door to a ferociously grinning Astrid, who shot Ron such an approving look Shego stepped between the two.
"Mine," She growled, "Get your own."
"I have my own," Astrid shot back with a grin, "And he does a damn good job, but I don't think he's ever made me howl like a damn wolf before."
Poor Ron was bright red as he retreated to their bedroom for a shower. Shego followed him, making an 'I'm watching you' gesture at the blonde woman before disappearing.
They returned, freshly washed, to find Astrid stretched out on the couch, a six pack open beside her, reading what looked to be the trashiest of trashy romance novels. "Fresh shit in the fridge for you, Ron," she said, giving a luxurious groan as she settled deeper into the cheap cushions, "an entire weekend of beer, home cooked food, no brats, and just you two. Only way this weekend could look better is if it was just me and Sven here."
"The crime boss?" Ron asked, earning him a glare from over the book. "Right, gonna just start making dinner," He said, quasi retreating into the section of the living area that was the kitchen.
Shego propped her feet up on the table as she sat in one of the dining chairs. "So where is the lovely non-couple?" She asked, "Off on a mission together?"
"I fucking hope not," Astrid said with a groan. "Heather is supposed to be in Baltimore trying to work out a peace between two kindreds there. Luke said he was heading to fuck around with GJ in Dallas, but he told me over the phone which means he was probably lying and I have no clue where he is."
"So he could be right behind you?" Shego teased, bursting into laughter as Astrid looked at her horrified.
"Oh, gods, please no," the blonde prayed. "Its bad enough I haven't been able to get back to see Sven in months. Thor, please, grant me this weekend away from them!"
Shego couldn't help laughing, so she tried to hide it behind her hand. Ron set a glass of water down by her and she kissed his arm in thanks before he returned to his cooking. Already wonderful smells were starting to flood the trailer.
"So, what are your vacation plans while you baby sit us, but not mad men and love sick girls?" Shego asked after draining the much needed water.
"I'm going to sleep," Astrid said, "I'm going to enjoy my beer, I'm going to read, and maybe I will hang out with you lesser mortals."
"Oh, lesser mortals are we?" Shego asked with mock offense. "You hear that Master, we are but lesser mortals. I think your cooking is below that which her divine palate deserves. You better just make enough for me and you alone. It would be a shame to waste it, even if it is unworthy."
She burst out laughing at Astrid's look of abject horror, and almost fell out of her chair as the woman did her best to sing the praises of Ron's cooking. Her master shook with suppressed chuckles.
"It's okay Astrid, I'll make some for you too," He said after five minutes of pleading. "But no cake."
"Nooo!" Astrid cried out. Shego was sure, somewhere, someone was telling their fellows the horrible cry was the sound of ultimate suffering. Not that she could blame the woman, she'd probably do the same if forever denied Ron's chocolate cake.
Dinner was simple affair, house salad, salmon with honey bbq glaze, and rice, and at least two toasts to Ron's cooking by Astrid. The woman even washed the dishes afterwards in thanks, though she begged off anything else for the evening and went to bed.
Shego was pretty sure she recognized the look of a lonely woman who finally had some privacy, and the extra long shower convinced her of it. She counted her blessing, and her Master, as they went to sleep. Sure, it sucked being stuck in this tiny trailer, but she at least had the man she loved. It was more than could be said for her two new girlfriends. Ron didn't complain about the extra tight cuddles as she pressed against him.
"Woof," Shego said, giving Ron a flat stare.
"Are you sure about this?" Ron asked, for the sixth time. He held his hands up as she growled at him. "Okay, okay, fine. I just...I don't want you to hate me or get mad at me for this."
"Woof," she said flatly, sitting on her haunches and giving him a peeved sniff. She refused to open her eyes or look at him as he pet her, much as she wanted to. Her Master, it turned out, was not a man of many fetishes, though thanks to the months of their relationship she supposed petplay could now be counted among them. That being said, after two and a half months in the trailer and having exhausted all forms of entertainment, they were getting desperate for anything to break up the boredom. Including getting experimental.
Astrid had just left the previous day, and reasonably it would be a week before anyone else showed up, so they were not only on their own, they were safe from being interrupted. So, desperate to keep their minds occupied, Shego had recalled how Ron had reacted to her desperation for the bathroom after their first kiss.
Which had led them to what she supposed could be called desperation play. When she'd brought it up, Ron had insisted it wasn't a fetish of his, but he did know about it. His blush and fidgeting told her that wasn't exactly true. She'd suggested they try it, or that she did and basically put on a show for him. When he'd still been hesitant, she went full puppy, complete with tail and ears perched on her head.
"I'm serious," Ron said softly, "I know...I know I haven't been the best to be around lately. I know I've been mean, which you don't deserve, and I would hate for anything, anything, to make you hate me."
Shego broke at the sadness in his voice. Too often, Ron would start to fly off the handle, even with Heather trying to heal his mind. But he never yelled at her when she was a puppy, or got short with her. She turned and pushed him down, licking his face and making soft whimpering sounds. He hugged her tightly, his face hiding in her hair. "Woof," she said, gently, lovingly. Then she got up, crawled over the bowl she'd set on the floor, and looked at him expectantly.
After the second bowl of water she broke character slightly and used her hands to lift the bowl up to drink rather than try to lap the water out for the next three. Then she cuddled her master on the sofa as he read one of the books Astrid had brought them to try and kill the time. This one was a battered copy of some fantasy series about a dark elf she'd never heard of, and didn't care about. All she cared about was her Master being close to her.
Eventually though, the results of drinking five bowls of water started to hit her. It was slow at first, but as the pages turned and Ron's read the novel aloud to her, the pressure built and built till it couldn't be ignored. She wriggled, trying to get more comfortable.
It was at this point she realized, she hadn't planned this well. Of course, the plan was to let Master watch as she squirmed around, desperately needing to go. But they hadn't actually worked out how long she was supposed to wait for him. Or if he was supposed to do anything, or if she was supposed to lick him while he watched her. Sure, she could ask him, but she'd sunk pretty deep into being Sheila the Puppy and honestly as the pressure grew she wasn't sure about how well she'd keep it together if she came out of it.
Ron's attention finally broke from the book to her as she whimpered and wriggled, feeling fuller by the second. She looked up at him, feeling like her teeth were floating as she whimpered. He flushed, and she felt him shifting under her chin, his hardness quickening.
"What's the matter girl?" He asked, petting her, "You have to go?" She whimpered, wriggling, her tail wagging and putting more pressure on her. She should have thought of that, she mused.
Then it fully hit her and she realized she probably should have paced herself as it suddenly felt like her eyes were floating as well. She had two options, admit defeat, race for the bathroom and hope she made it, or...
Or...
Silently she cursed her inner puppy as she climbed off the sofa and went to trailer door, pawing at it desperately. She'd gone too deep, spent to much time thinking about how a proper puppy would act in an attempt to sooth her troubled Master's soul. Ron walked over to her and the door, looking troubled and confused. "You want out?" He asked, slowly.
"WOOF!" She barked, scraping at the door. When he hesitated, she let out the most pitiful whimper she'd ever made, squeezing every part of her as tight as she could as the need nearly overwhelmed her.
"Uh...okay?" Ron said, pulling open the door. Without even thinking, she exploded out of the trailer to the nearest tree. She felt Ron watching her, and even turned to see him looking utterly stunned as she took care of business. It felt like forever, but finally sweet relief was hers and she crawled back into the trailer, carefully brushing herself off. Then she nuzzled him, noting that despite everything he was quite excited and so she took care of the other business.
After they were done, and she'd floated back to being more Shego than puppy, she looked at Ron from where she was resting on his chest. "Master," she said softly, planting light kisses.
"Yes, Shego?" Ron asked, his breath still ragged from their activities.
"If you don't mind, I think I'm going to wait a while before doing that again," She said, "And plan better, that didn't exactly go how I meant it too."
She relaxed as his hand caressed her hair. "Okay," He said, propping his head up to look at her. "I admire you for trying it, at least. You're a good girl for Master."
Shego felt any embarrassment from what happen fade away in the light of his pride and love for her, and smiled contentedly. "Thank you Master, that means the world to me," She said softly, pressing as close as she could.
"I love you, Sheila," Ron said.
"I love you too, Ron." She purred, kissing his chest. "My Master."
Three months at the trailer.
"I'm bored," Shego whined. "Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored."
Ron sighed sitting upside down on the sofa, idly tossing a balled up sock in the air and catching it. "I don't know what you want me to do about it," He said, a slight edge of frustration to his own bored voice.
"Read to me?" she prompted, crawling over to him and crouching on the floor by his head.
"Shego, I have read every book in this damn trailer too you twice." Ron growled. He tossed the sock in the air and caught it. "I have done three full Mordheim campaigns with you. We've got ever cd in this place practically memorized. There is nothing to do."
"But I'm bored," She said, pitifully, not even caring about how utterly un-Shego-like she was being.
"There is nothing I can do about that!" Ron snapped, hurling the sock at her. She whimpered and ducked, letting it sail over her head. She stayed low and whimpered as he covered his eyes with his arm and growled in frustrated rage. "Great, now I don't even have my sock," He grumbled.
Sock. Shego twisted around, looking. It was over by the bed in the other bedroom. Quietly, she crawled over to it, not wanting to draw more of her Master's frustration, and partially hoping the sight of her naked ass would would make him feel something more pleasant. At least if he was fucking her, he wasn't being angry or upset. Mostly. And being drugged out on an orgasmic high at least passed some of the time, though she was worried how long even that was going to last if they didn't start getting something to break up the monotony of their little trailer.
Maybe they could take up gardening, though with the heavy tree cover she wasn't sure how well anything could grow by their little home. She finally reached the sock and, on a whim, snatched it in her teeth. Thankfully, Ron had been playing with a clean sock that had been washed recently.
She crawled back to him, finding him still there with his arm over his eyes, grumbling, and gently placed the sock in his hand. "Woof," she said softly, nuzzling him.
He made a frustrated sound and threw it again. This time, it landed in the living area by the small, over burdened book case. She crawled after it, because it was something to do, other than lay around. Seizing it in her teeth, she carried the fuzzy burden back, though it was starting to get a bit damp from her drooling on it despite her efforts.
Again, she put it in Ron's hand, and again he made that frustrated sigh and tossed it. She watched as it sailed out of sight behind the counter, and made her way after it. Retrieved it, brought it back, put it in his hand.
"Shego, what are you doing," Ron growled in frustration as he hurled the sock again.
She went after it, bedroom again, retrieved, carried, and set. "I believe I'm playing fetch, Master," she said. Ron came out from behind his arm, looking at her, then the slightly damp sock, then back at her.
He threw it, this time with something other than frustration, and she chased after it. Part of her wished she had her tail to wag as she shuffled across the cheap carpet, but it had been too much effort to deal with that day. So she settled for wiggling her ass for master as she went after it, then smiling at him from behind his sock as she brought back.
They played until her knees were too sore to keep going, and only stopped then because Ron could see it was actually hurting her. Shego wanted to keep going, desperate for the entertainment and to keep him from falling back into the all too familiar, frustrated and angry funk that had befallen him at the start of the game.
He refused, and like the wonderful Master she knew him to be at his best, tended to her knees, before taking her to their bed to nap while he set about cooking dinner.
At one point Luke brought them letters from Zita and Felix, who were worried sick about them and hoped they were doing okay, and told them about what had been happening back home. Jim and Tim's terror campaign had gone from subtle to outright war once it got out that GJ had attempted to take Shego and Ron in based on Kim's status as an agent and the resulting charges. Kim's parents, though unhappy about what Ron had done to their daughter, had worked hard to create some sort of peace, and were apparently very unhappy as well, which had resulted in Kim moving out of the house.
Kim had then gotten promoted to special agent due to her connections to both Shego and Ron in an attempt to better hunt them down. This had apparently included three days of relentless interrogation of both Zita and Felix, which only ended after Wade managed to find where they were and get lawyers there to represent them. Zita promised that they had done their best not to give anything up, especially since they didn't know anything about that night or where the couple had gone, but apologized if GJ managed to get something useful from them. Shego was furious, and even Ron managed to hold on to his anger at Kim's actions. He couldn't grasp what had driven Kim to do what she had done to them, but could at least acknowledge that in helping Shego and brutalizing Kim, he'd crossed a line. But Kim abusing Felix and Zita was something he considered the final straw in Kim's betrayal of their friendships. The young couple had been innocent of absolutely anything and everything. Shego was glad to see something other than fear in her Master's eyes.
There was a letter from Wade. He and what lawyers he could gather were working tirelessly to try and resolve the situation, but apparently it wasn't going well. While all the cameras had shown that she and Ron had done nothing but run from the agents that Blackwolf attacked, GJ was determined to pin some of the blame on them. The young black man had postulated Kim might have something to do with that, but had absolutely no proof. It probably wouldn't hold up in a trial, but even that wasn't something to rely on. It wouldn't matter in Shego's case, her termination was ordered, pet or no. Efforts to get that appealed weren't going well either. He did promise that Rufus was hale and hearty, and was part of the efforts to save them.
There was another letter though. Unmarked except for a lotus flower sticker on the flap and Ron's name on the front. Inside was a simple note telling Ron that if he needed, it was their honor to provide him shelter.
Inevitably though, the little trailer closed in around them. There were only so many hours one could spend training, or going for walks in the woods, cooking etc one could do. They'd listened to every cd, read ever book, learned to play mordheim themselves, fucked like rabbits, and even tried more and more pet play games, from fetch to her 'learning' tricks of all kinds. She could balance a ball on her nose now, though she wasn't sure when that would ever be handy. They'd even had Ron bath her like a dog, with her on all fours and him washing her. That one had ended up as such a turn on they did it a couple more times. She'd been right about how wonderful his strong, gentle hands would feel bathing her.
She spent so much time with her tail in it no longer was uncomfortable to wear.
The reason for the extended pet play wasn't just boredom though. The trauma from the attack took it's tole and he became more short tempered. It started subtly sometime after they'd learned what Kim had done to Zita and Felix. Initially she'd been happy to see anger, rather than fear in Ron's eyes. Yet, as the week progressed, that anger had only grown. When she'd asked about it during one of their sparing sessions, Ron had broken into a rage. He'd turned away from her, repeatedly smashing his fists into a tree, his voice rising higher and higher as he raged at his helplessness. Helplessness to protect her, his friends, anyone. At being trapped in the trailer. At his fear of Luke, his rage at the man, his hatred of what the man believed, and his powerlessness to truly deny some of the man's logic for his beliefs.
By the time he was done, the tree had a solid dent of crushed wood and destroyed bark in its trunk. She'd come over as he collapsed in tears of rage, and gently tended his battered hands, removing splinters, cleaning cuts, and then gently wrapping them in bandages. She'd kissed his hair, whispered her love into his ear, and promised him that every day he was keeping her safe even if he didn't believe it.
Three months in near total isolation would have any couple, no matter how loving, on shorter and shorter tempers. Then Shego had noticed the deeper she was into being Ron's puppy, no only did his temper ease up, but her own. She suspected that, even with having eased up, her coming at him with killing intent was making his traumatized mind see her as a threat after he'd nearly broken her arm on pure instinct during a sparing session. Ron, her Master, would never willingly hurt her, and the sight of her crying in pain as he had her pinned and was twisting her arm in ways it never should have gone, came back to himself just in time.
He'd been so disgusted with himself he'd run away from her into the woods. It had taken her hours to find him, and when she finally did he screamed at her to stay away. No attempts to get close to him would work. The fear in his eyes, both of himself and of her shattered her heart. She'd collapsed on the ground, limbs under her, whimpering as she cried. Eventually though, she'd looked up at him while like that and noticed his fear of her wasn't there. When she stood up, it came back, then vanished as she went down again.
So she did the first thing that came to her mind. She stripped naked, and crawled to him, belly practically to the ground, whimpering and whining like a lost puppy. He was still terrified, but she could tell it was about himself hurting her, not her hurting him. So she crawled closer, and nuzzled his hand, and whimpered, and licked him, begging for pets. Until, finally, he broke down crying and hugging her and pleading with her to forgive him, over and over and over again. She licked away his tears, and cried as she promised it was okay, and that she was sorry she'd hurt him, and that she was okay. She knew Master would never hurt her.
She'd called a halt to their training after that. Runs were fine, and they would spend hours running through the woods like an obstacle course. They would run katas together. But they never sparred and she never went after him with any intent again.
They were fully themselves when the others were around, but when alone they slipped deeper and deeper into their roles as master and pup, and she was eating and drinking out of bowls on the floor, walking around wearing only her tail and ears, and in the last weeks of the month, even talking in barks and growls more often than words. Sometimes it was hard, but his temper never flared with her while it was happening, his panic attacks decreased, and even his night terrors got better. So she pushed on.
Anything to protect Ron, to make him feel better, and to avoid saying or doing something to hurt him. If that meant losing herself in the role, then that's what she would do. It's affects on her, well, there were worse fates than being a mindless and well loved pet.