A King’s Lament

- “And how shortly after the incident did these nightmares begin to occur?”, the golden woman in glasses asked, notebook in hand. 
- “Uh... About a week after. I-I think. I can’t remember, exactly”. 
He sat far back on a gray couch, his short, stubby legs barely even long enough to reach the edge of the seat. His gaze aimed downward, not wanting to make eye-contact with woman seated on a chair six feet in front of him. 
- “Mmn, I see”, she nodded and took a few seconds to write on her notepad. “What do you remember? From your nightmares, that is?”, she pried. 
It took him several seconds of controlled breathing followed by a large sigh before he responded, his head shivering slightly. 
- “I... I remember being back there; back in the cage. I remember being forced to re-live it all in excruciating detail”, he disclosed, his ears slanted downward somewhat.
The lady jotted down for a few more seconds in advance of the follow-up question. 
- “And how does that make you feel?”
He didn’t respond. He simply buried his face into his paws and wept quietly, not wanting to display his crying in front of her. 
- “You’re going to have to face these emotions eventually, King. These feelings you have aren’t going to go away on their own unless you open up about them”.
She sounded genuine enough, but being challenged like that still upset him. Being forced to endure the trauma in his dreams was one thing, but also having to re-live it in a woken state? He didn’t like it. Not one bit. 
“This is only our first session, so I can understand your reluctance, but—”
- “I don’t want to talk about it!”, King interrupted, finally lifting his head up for the first time since he sat down. His breathing was elevated, and a few tears were forming around his eyes. 

“If I had been human, I could probably have broken out of there somehow, or avoided being kidnapped altogether. I had never truly had any issue with my size until I was stuck inside that tank. I felt so small and helpless! 
All I want is to just forget it ever happened, but I can’t! Every time I get a few seconds of reprieve, it comes back to me like a freight truck; all in vivid detail! It’s been two full months and it’s all as if it was yesterday!”
He broke the eye-contact once his exclamation ended, burying his face in his paws again after wiping away some of the tears. 
“I just want to forget...”
The lady let out a curious sigh, writing down a few words in her pad before returning her attention to the lamenting corgi on the couch. 
- “Would you want something to drink?”, she asked, getting up from her chair at King’s slight nod. 
- “Sure...”, He responded hesitantly, shifting his butt forward until his feet dangled off the side of the couch so he could drink move comfortably. 
 It took only ten seconds for her to fill the plastic cup and transfer it to King. He raised his gaze and reached out his hands to grab it, but the moment he brought it close to his lips—closer to his eyes—his body started to tremble. His pupils dilated, his breathing stopped, and his hand vibrated so violently water began to spill onto the carpet below him. 
She didn’t understand at first his intense staring at the cup and not sipping, but once his paws begun to shook, she realized right away. 
- “King, there is nothing to fear. It’s just a harmless cup of water; it can’t hurt you”.
No response, only quivering. 
She placed a hand on his shoulder to reach out to him and to offer comfort, but all that managed to do was make him jump and drop the cup entirely, water spilling all over the fancy-looking fabric. 

- “Ah--!”
King was on the brink of breaking down. Being inside this tiny office, feeling observed and judged, hearing the water’s movements as the cup dropped to the ground... It all brought back not only the memories—but the sensations as well—of being back inside that tank: Watched; assessed. 
- “Oh!”, she ejaculated. “That’s quite alright, King. Don’t fret about it, it’s fine!”
Her kind words did little to placate his troubled mind, his body still quaking like it was -40 degrees. 
Without his knowledge, King had emptied his bladder in his seat, sullying himself and making a mess of his surroundings. Once his mind had calmed enough for him to think critically again, his attention was immediately drawn to his soiled crotch. 
He spread his knees slightly apart to get a better look and, indeed, he had wet himself out of fear. 
The therapist noticed King’s accident as well, and found herself speechless for the first time. King looked up and their eyes met for what felt like an eternity to him. Once again, he felt himself humiliated from his inability to control his own bodily functions. 
In all of his years as a dog, he had not once accidentally wet himself this way in front of anybody else. Be it human or animal. Sure, there was that one time with the celestial beings, but that was different. 
The embarrassment he felt this time around much more personal and so much more intense. Though he was wearing his collar, he had never felt so naked before, even back inside the tank. He knew he was being watched then, too, but he could never see them. This time, he could see the reaction on her face.
He hurried down from his damp seat and swept toward the door, almost slipping on his own spills as he rushed out the office and into the hallway, weeping audibly whilst the therapist kept shouting for him to stop and come back, that it’s “all okay” and he had nothing to be ashamed of. 
As if. 

He turned a corner and ran farther down the hall, then opened a door to the stairs and ran down so fast he nearly fell. Once he egressed the building, rather than sit outside in the cold and wait for Fox to pick him up, he ran along the half-ploughed pavement all the way home as fast as his stubby little legs could carry him through the snow.
King often didn’t mind being stubby-legged, having gotten used to it over the years and now actually preferring it in many ways. It has its drawbacks, however: Running. Despite being a dog now, he still runs slower than he would have had he been his former self, needing to take twice as many steps in order to get where he wanted. Another downside was how easy it was for him to trip over himself when trying to run fast, a lesson he was painfully reminded of once, half way home, he dove head-first into the snow. 
“Oomph!”
For the shortest of moments, he considered remaining there, motionless, and just let the cold embrace him. But his instincts told him to get back up and keep running, and so he pushed himself up from the down-covered ground and kept on going.
Luckily for King, the adrenaline he gained from his embarrassment lasted long enough for him to run all the way home, as well as avoid freezing. He had forgotten to put his scarf back on in his rush out the office. 
It was only five in the afternoon, but given it was winter, the sun had already started to settle down beyond the horizon. Once faced with the front door, knowing Bailey and the pups were inside, he hesitated opening the door. He still smelled of urine, had tears running down his eyes, and was panting wildly. No way she wouldn’t ask questions, or even figure it all out on her own. He had always been bad at hiding his emotions from her. 
With that, King decided to instead run behind the house and hide inside the shed he had built for Sasha some years ago. He had hidden there before, and it has since sort of become his comfort spot of sorts; being far enough from the house for some peace and quiet, but close enough not to feel forlorn. 
It took him some time to get there, having to trudge through two feet of snow on legs barely taller than a foot. From the outside, the shed looked like a standard doghouse: White walls with a red gabled roof, with a corgi-sized door at the front—it was King who built it, after all. 
Other than the brown-varnished walls and dark ceiling, the interior was slightly more irregular, being fitted with its own heater and secret pantry. Not that he was hungry in the slightest, but comforting to know it was there nonetheless, just in case.
He stepped inside, turned on the heat, and lied down on the blanket in a fetal position facing away from the entrance, ready to cry out late into the night, his memories still haunting him. 
“Hnng, hnng...”
He whimpered; hands wrapped around his knees, surrounded by the darkness. He didn’t want anybody to find him in his current state, so he avoided turning on the lights inside the doghouse—as if the foot-deep trail he created on his way over wasn’t enough to reveal his whereabouts. 
King was almost half asleep when an abrupt noise woke him up. He turned around and saw a blueish gray Alaskan husky standing in the doorway. It was his best friend and cousin-in-law, Fox, knocking on the outside wall to announce his presence. On top of his usual attire consisting of a tan-coloured collar almost entirely covered by a yellow bandana, completed by his set of dog tags adorning his chest, he was also wearing his matching tanned, canine-sized bomber jacket. King turned back around quickly before Fox could have a chance to notice his tears.
- “Hey, King. Got room for one more?”, he asked politely whilst taking off his jacket. King had a feeling that even if he said no, Fox wouldn’t leave him alone anyway. 
- “Sure, whatever... This place is nothing if not spacious”. The corgi tried his best to hide the despair in his voice, sniffling softly so as to make it seem like nothing but ordinary breathing. 
King could essentially hear Fox’s thoughts behind him as Fox sat down on the mattress. For every second of silence that went by, he awaited Fox’s words, whatever they may be, but hoping that he wouldn’t pry.
- “What’re you doing out here in the cold all by yourself?”
King could see right through him, however.
- “What do you want, Fox?”, he asked rather sharply.
- “Well, I couldn’t find you outside the office after your appointment. I waited maybe half an hour before I walked in to check, and she said you had already left an hour ago, so I found and followed your pawprints and they lead me here”.
There was a short moment of silence. Fox likely expected King to react, but when he didn’t say anything, Fox chimed in further: 
“And so now I’m here, and I’m wondering what went wrong? It’s not normal of you to run off like that anymore”. 
King sighed deeply, knowing he would need to respond at some point, or else dial Fox’s worry up higher. 
- “I... I just had to get out of there, okay?”
- “Why, what happ—”
- “I don’t want to talk about it! Alright?”, King interjected. 
Fox stopped himself from responding straight away. He knew King needed a breather to collect himself, and so he opted instead to scooch over right next to him and place a handpaw on his shoulder to show support. 
- “I’m here for you, King. Whatever you need. You know that, right?”, he reassured.
“I take it things didn’t go as you’d hoped with Miss Lovestuen, but that doesn’t mean all hope is lost. You still got Bailey and the pups, and you’ve still got me. My ears are always open for you, buddy”. 
King remained mute. He merely let out a small, almost inaudible mewl at the touching of his shoulder. King heavily considered to run away again, but not only would Fox catch up within ten seconds, he also couldn’t do that to his best friend; ditch him like he’s worthless, ‘because the only worthless dog in this doghouse is me’.
- “No, they!—“, he finally responded. “Sigh, it went bad, Fox... She offered me a glass to drink and when I laid eyes on the water, I completely froze! My hands started shaking and I... I involuntarily wet myself. So, I just had to get out of there”. 
- “You wet yourself, so what?”, Fox shrugged and tilted his head, confused regarding King’s reaction to the wetting. “That happens all the time amongst smaller dogs, just ask Sten!”
- “But I’m NOT a small dog, am I! At least, not completely, I’m not. I’ve been a dog for over a decade, sure, but there’s still a lot of human left in me... And trust me, humans do not enjoy soiling themselves. It’s humiliating!”
Fox sighed, taking a second to think through what to say next. 
- “I have picked up on that, yes. Humans are much easier to fluster in terms of things involving nudity or basic bodily functions, which I don’t really get, but I’m sure most humans don’t understand typical canine behaviour either. Still, King, the therapist doesn’t know about your past, and she’s used to treating traumatized dogs, so I’m sure she didn’t think anything of it”. 
His words did little to comfort his queasy mind, but it was better than nothing. King knew his friend was right and that he shouldn’t feel this way, but he couldn’t help it, despite his best efforts.
- “Being in that tank...”, King spoke, starting to open up, in a slightly less distressed tone, though just as dejected. “I was terrified. At first, I thought you guys were just pulling a prank on me for getting wasted the night before. Even after being under for maybe a minute or so, I still chose to hold onto the belief it was merely a hazing. It was the only thing that kept my hopes up. I was so scared!”
“It wasn’t until I started to... s-started t-to drown that I realized no-one was coming to help me. I felt so helpless! I was trapped inside a glass box filled with water whilst some perverted asshole was watching me the entire time, like I was some form of drowning canine exhibit!”
“I pounded on the glass and begged to be let out many times over, getting closer and closer to running out of breath... I was stupid enough to even try verbally communicating, furthering along my demise. I didn’t tell anybody this because it’s just so devastating to my pride, but as I was drowning, I ...”
He placed his paws over his eyes, covering his face in shame, his ears pointing downward. 

“Sigh... My stomach was giving me trouble and... I Farted. A lot. I tried to hold back because my dignity demanded it, but I just couldn’t. I know that sounds ridiculous and like it’s no big deal, really, but it was embarrassing as all howl! I felt so ashamed of myself! A-and once I was almost all out of air, I was even forced to re-breathe my previously exhaled breaths, including my farts! It was the most shameful act I had ever performed, and at one point toward the end, my sheath even started to grow erect, like I was getting turned on by the whole ordeal, and I... I... Sigh. Since I figured I was going to die, I actually pawed off...”
Fox nuzzled into King’s neck as he spoke: 
- “I don’t rightly know what to say that isn’t obvious already, but... I’m sorry you went through that, King. But I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to open up to me about it finally. I’m sure it’s been weighing on your chest for a long while, and I know it must be incredibly tough to talk about it”.
- “The thought that he’s still out there—somewhere—re-watching that recording of my humiliating display of drowning, farting, and masturbating... It drives me insane, Fox! I can’t take it! It’s the worst experience of my life, and I don’t know what to do!”
- “Uh... Uhm...”, Fox stammered, immensely worried for his friend, whom had finally opened up to him, but he had no idea what to say!
“King, I’m not sure what to say. We’re doing our absolute best to apprehend this guy, but aside from that, there’s nothing I can tell you that will take your pain away, but... Know that I won’t judge you, and that I’m always here for you. Always”. 
There was a slight pause, but King mustered the energy to show his appreciation.
- “Thank you, Fox... You have always been there for me, even through the worst of times. Even after you found out I used to be Joel”.
- “Oh, pffssh!”, Fox scoffed lightly, nudging King on the shoulder. “I’m always there for you! And I told you ages ago I already forgave you for that, dog. Even if you did keep it a secret from me for all those years”.
- “It’s not much of a secret anymore, though, is it? You’re far from the only one aware of my past human life. Bailey, Tarot, Sabrina, Miles, Daryl, the other Daryl, the kangaroos... The list goes on”.
- “Perhaps it’s not so much of a secret now, no, but do you remember the day you revealed yourself to me?”, Fox asked, gently rubbing King’s shoulder.
- “Not by choice, mind you... If Pete hadn’t turned me human again, I don’t know if I ever would have had the stomach to tell you”, the corgi admitted, slightly ashamed of himself. 
- “Nevermind that”, Fox patted, leaning in for a hug. “What matters is that you did. You could have called anyone that day, but you chose to call for me. The same dog that you tried to dognap half a decade earlier as a human, who you had since befriended as a corgi for years, and whose partner nearly choked me to death”. 
King couldn’t see it, but Fox stroked himself around his throat and neck, still remembering how it felt that day. 
“I never admitted this to anybody, but I lived in fear all those years that Joel—erm, you—would return. So, when I saw you that day as your true self, or at least as your original self, I reacted purely on instinct, something which you surely must have known could have happened. That took courage, King. You knew the risks of revealing yourself to me, but you did it anyway. Similarly, you can tell me what’s going on now”, Fox concluded. 
Though Fox’s words meant well and were intended to encourage or inspire King to open up, what his words inadvertently did was remind the corgi of when he dognapped Fox all them years ago, and a rush of guilt rushed through him, making him shiver and weep. 
“W-what’s wrong, King? What did I say?”, Fox inquired with a soft, concerned tone. 
King felt so bad! He hadn’t actually considered before now just how awful and traumatic it must have been for Fox to get dognapped like that and nearly smothered to death. Granted he was only the driver, and wasn’t on-board with the plan in its entirety, he still felt horrible for what he put Fox through!
- “I’m so sorry, Fox! *Sniffle* For everything! I don’t think I ever even expressed my deepest apology for what I put you through that day... Just now, when you said what you said, it made me realize how scared you must have been, and I’m so, so sorry for putting you through all that! I’m an awful excuse of a person!”
Fox needn’t confirm anymore whether King was crying, for the sorrow in his voice gave it away, alongside the sniffles and sporadic, sharp breaths. 
- “King, I told you I’ve already forgiven you for—”
- “But I can’t forgive myself!”, King cut him off, now facing him, the tears in his eyes and the frown on his face broadcasting his genuity/candour. 
As if to pray, King had gotten onto his knees in front of Fox, with his handpaws resting atop the husky’s own. 
“I can’t ever forgive myself for what I did to you! You’re the best dog I’ve ever met and my closest friend, and I did that to you!”
King buried his face in Fox’s lap as the waterworks kept running, sulking and breathing short, rapid breaths between each weep. 
“Buh-wuh, huh-wuuhh! *Sniffle, sniffle!*”
Fox was nearly at a loss or words. An oddity for someone like him, who almost always knew what to say in a given situation. Trying his best to provide the comfort his corgi friend so desperately needed, he placed his paws beneath King’s armpits and lifted him up into a warm embrace, like two long lost brothers—from different mothers.  
- “King, it’s okay, really!”, he attempted to reason, but King kept on sniffling. 
“Hey, look at me. King!”
He was unreachable, and short of resorting to violence, which Fox abhorred, he did have one last ace up his collar. 
“Joel Robinson!”
King’s ears perked up and he instantly pushed back to face Fox, staring him in the eyes. He hadn’t heard his human name in so long, and the way he shouted it at him jolted him back to reality. 
- “Y-yes? Fox?”, he spoke softly, like he was trying not to step on eggshells, and with a look in his eyes that was both adorable and pitiable, and that screamed ‘regret’. 
- “It’s alright! I forgive you! I already forgave you the day we met, even though I didn’t know it at the time. You were just misguided and trying to get by in a world you felt didn’t want you. But I helped show you that you were wanted—and still are. The corgi I knew for all those years were nothing like the human version of you. All you needed was some true friendship and it helped you see the light. Am I wrong?”
King merely shook his head in response, unsure of how to properly respond. 
“So, trust me when I tell you: I forgive you, King. You’re forgiven and you are loved. You’re my best friend in the whole wide world, and I don’t say that lightly. I love you”.
King responded by hugging him tighter and exclaiming another whimper, tears still running down his cheeks. 
- “Thank you, Fox... You’ve no idea how much that means to me, coming from you. I’ve been wanting to hear those words for years. It’s...  been such a huge burden, and I’m glad to finally have it off my chest”.
With his arms wrapped around the corgi, Fox leaned back until he hit a horizontal position, with King now resting atop his chest, nuzzling into it. Fox started stroking King’s upper back and neck, where seconds turned into minutes and before he knew it, the corgi had fallen unconscious on top of him. 
- “Heh... Goodnight, King. Sleep well. You deserve a good night’s rest”. 
Fox kissed the corgi on his forehead and closed his own eyes and quickly followed suit, the two boys falling sound asleep in each other’s embrace. 

THE END(?)