By Any Other Name Ch. 01

"I. I..." Lilra's voice came out very small as she struggled. "What... what kind of flower did you, um, need, madam?"

"Miss Gallica will do." The eyes sparkled with amusement. "Or Miss Gallica, if you prefer. My servants call my Mistress Gallica, or m'lady, but you can call me whatever you please, darling."

"M-Miss Gallica." Lilra hesitated. She had asked a question, hadn't she?

Did... did Miss Gallica want her to repeat what she'd said with the 'correct' address?

She hesitated. Miss Gallica seemed to wait, full of patience. Lilra's head felt fuzzy and disoriented as she breathed in the sweet perfume and stared into those sap-green eyes.

"What kind of flower did you need, Miss Gallica?" she mumbled, surrendering.

And Miss Gallica's smile widened. She gave Lilra another pat on the arm as she sashayed around her, forcing Lilra to spin to keep her in view. She strutted around this garden as if she owned it—and considering how pliant Lilra was being right now, she thought with a pang of embarrassment, perhaps that was a fair enough measure. "Oh, I shouldn't know, darling. I know my garden has felt dreadfully dull of late, though. Dreadfully dull indeed. I suppose this cute little cottage caught me eye, and I'd try and see what you had to offer me." She turned back, batting her eyelashes in a way that made Lilra's heart flutter. "I'm looking for something to take care of, you see. I very much like my little flowers to be... well, a little... what's the word..."

"Fragile?" Lilra offered, biting her lip. "I do have some succulents in... in my greenhouse over yonder, ma-a—Miss Gallica." She gestured over to the suddenly rather shoddy looking greenhouse, wishing she had something considerably more high-quality to show Miss Gallica. The greenhouse was actually extremely precious, the fine glass a gift from the Toxin Rangers after she'd helped with an especially problematic group of pollen alraunes. But over the years it had grown green with algae and moss, and while she'd never felt a need to clean it up before, she had no doubt that someone as lovely and... and lavish as Miss Gallica had seen dozens, perhaps hundreds of beautiful greenhouses that made this one look like a total shack.

She wasn't sure why she wanted to impress Miss Gallica. For some reason, it just felt like this woman's opinion was very, very important to Lilra.

At least, she thought, swallowing, Miss Gallica wasn't so close anymore. Wasn't staring at her with those intense eyes, focusing the full force of her fond, spellbinding smile on her.

It was such a pretty smile.

"No, that's not it," Miss Gallica said with a pouty sigh. "I want... oh, I shouldn't know. Something that needs to be... sculpted, is the word, I think?" She walked through the little garden, pausing to examine the flowers and other plants—Lilra sheepishly thought that perhaps she should have planted her vegetables and fruits and grains elsewhere, so that someone as busy and hard to impress as Miss Gallica wouldn't have to step over gourd vines and bean trellises right now.

"Oh." Lilra blinked. She followed the taller woman through the garden, biting her lip at Miss Gallica's somewhat impressed—but ever-gracious—surveying of her humble little plants. "I... oh, do you mean, as in, like, to say..." She cleared her throat.Stop stammering. Stop babbling! "Like a bonsai tree?"

"Not quite," Miss Gallica smirked back at her. "But close. I do like those little trees, of course, and who doesn't enjoy binding a plant to make it grow in just the way you like?" She reached forward and, without warning, caressed Lilra's cheek.

Lilra barely suppressed a squeak.

Miss Gallica tilted her head slightly, admiring the botanist for a moment. Or... whatwas she doing? Lilra felt her cheeks heating like honey in the pot as Miss Gallica's ever-so-delicate fingertips grazed over them. The beautiful, regal woman... couldn't possibly be admiring her, right? No one admired her. Miss Gallica had to be... had to be... was this just how a proper noble behaved? Was Lilra being rude if she objected? Was there etiquette Lilra didn't know about?

It was a nightmare. A mortifying nightmare.

And yet, Lilra still had to stop herself from leaning in to the dainty touch. What is wrong with me?

"But," Miss Gallica murmured, withdrawing her hand with an easy, confident smile, "I can't say that we have much use for a bonsai. No, no, that's not the right planet for us. Besides, a bonsai tree is such a decrepit thing, isn't it?"

"That's..." Lilra's head was spinning. She hurried after Miss Gallica, feeling curiously like a... like an attendant at her heel.

An attendant. Lilra's cheeks were positively burning embers. That had been the word she was thinking, surely. Not... not anything else. Not anything else that would follow at Miss Gallica's heel.

"That's the point of a bonsai tree," she mumbled to herself.

Miss Gallica stopped short. She glanced back, one eyebrow raised. "What was that, darling?"

"N-Nothing!" Lilra yelped, jumping as she realized she'd been heard. Although hadn't she meant to be heard? She knew her cheeks had to be obviously red, and she wondered if by this point Miss Gallica even noticed the change in her color. Maybe, Lilra thought, grasping at straws, Miss Gallica just assumed that this was how Lilra always looked. Perpetually red-faced.

And perpetually stammering and mumbling and... Lilra cut the thought short. "Nothing," she repeated, smiling nervously. "I, um. If not a bonsai, what about a creeping vine? Trellis plants sometimes have a great use for being... 'sculpted', you said?"

"A trellis?" Miss Gallica nodded slightly, appearing to consider it. Her eyes darted about above her head, as if envisioning the notion. "Hm... I do quite enjoy that idea. So you're telling me my flower would climb up the trellis and cling to it?"

"... yes." Lilra desperately wanted to tell Miss Gallica that this was exactly what a trellis meant, but she didn't want Miss Gallica giving her that mild reprimanding look again. She had no idea what Miss Gallica would do if Lilra was openly rude in any way, but she was scared to even try correcting her now. She told herself that Miss Gallica probably knew what she meant, even if she was phrasing it oddly. "A vine or the like. Maybe some creeping flowering ivy?"

"Hm... no, no, I don't think so." She tutted, walking up to Lilra and looking expectant. "Perhaps I should describe what I'm looking for in greater detail."

Lilra wanted very badly to ask why Miss Gallica hadn't done that to begin with, but she bit her tongue, staring up at the imposing, gorgeous noblewoman. "Yes," she said after an uncertain pause. "Um, please do. Miss Gallica."

Miss Gallica smiled and reached forward, taking her by the hand. Lilra flinched slightly, but tried not to show her surprise. Don't be rude. Just... just be polite. She'll tell you what she wants, and she'll take it, and she'll leave for things that matter more than you, and that's fine. I can stop making a fool of myself soon. Just do as she says until then. "Let me see," the lady said, slowly, as she held Lilra's hand between both of hers. "I do enjoy the idea of a plant that needs constant support. A delicate flower that can't grow and thrive without being... held up."

Lilra nodded slightly. Her mind raced with possibilities, anything to distract herself from how close Miss Gallica was, how sweet she smelled, how confidently she had stolen Lilra's hand and now held it, fingers stroking casually over her palm and over the back of her hand as if she owned it, as if it had always belonged to Miss Gallica. A passion flower? A grape? Maybe some sweetpeas?

"My flower needs to be delicate, of course." Miss Gallica smiled down at Lilra. Her fingertips drew a little spiral—a circle—a heart shape along Lilra's suddenly very sensitive palm. Lilra's head fuzzed with static as she realized that Miss Gallica was smiling right into her eyes, with a knowing twinkle, as if she knew exactly what Lilra was thinking right now. "A delicate, sensitive thing."

"I..." Lilra's voice was very soft. She tried to strengthen it, but she didn't feel strong right now. She felt weak. Weak and helpless. She swallowed. "A... a flower like that is going to take a lot of work to take care of."

"Oh, I'd imagine!" Miss Gallica beamed and released Lilra's hand. Lilra blinked, briefly startled by a strange sense of... disappointment. Why wasn't she more relieved? "I do so adore pretty little blossoms that require... tender care."

"I-I see—"

"Loving care." Miss Gallica's fingers brushed Lilra's cheek, stroked under her chin.

Lilra heard a tiny whimper escape her. Oh. Oh no. This was... this felt...

The fingers gave a couple little tickles, little scritches, and Lilra felt herself tilting her head up to encourage them without even thinking about it. She barely held in a whine. Oh, why did that feel so... so... how did Miss Gallica know...

She knew this was wrong. She knew this was strange. But she couldn't think. She couldn't think. All she could do was passively accept the touch.

"Oh, yes," Miss Gallica purred. "As a matter of fact, darling, I believe I should quite enjoy having a... project. So I wouldn't worry your..." Her hand rose from Lilra's chin, and Lilra felt her head loll, sink a little, as if those fingertips had been helping her keep her suddenly very heavy, very woozy head upright. "... pretty..." Her hand gave Lilra's head a little pat. "... little..." Pat. "... head about it, okay, darling?" Pat-pat-pat.

Lilra whimpered. She felt a strange thrill running through her, laced with a strange kind of panic. She sensed that there was something distinctly wrong about this. Something distinctly suspicious. But it was just... so,so hard to think straight, and she felt so deeply, so intently lost in those sly, shimmering eyes.

She didn't want to worry her pretty little head about it. She just wanted to kneel here and...

Stand here, she mentally corrected herself. Not kneel. Stand. She just wanted to stand here and... and keep talking to Miss Gallica.

Keep listening to Miss Gallica.

"Yes, indeed, yes," Miss Gallica went on, her voice chiming like soft little tinkling silver bells, so very pretty, filling Lilra's ears with thoughts of... thoughts of...

... such a soft voice, such a pretty voice...

"Yes, indeed," Miss Gallica purred after a moment, and Lilra blinked blearily, realizing her heavy-lidded eyes must have betrayed her, that she'd zoned out a little bit. It was just... Miss Gallica was so close, and the air smelled so sweet, and it felt like Miss Gallica was bathing Lilra in a sweet bath of dizzying, dazing scents... "I actually quite enjoy having flowers to tend to. To take care of. I think the loveliest blossoms are the ones that are utterly hopeless on their own, don't you?"

As she spoke, her very forward hand drifted down to cup Lilra's cheek.

Lilra breathed in and breathed out. "Uh... uh-huh," she managed, struggling to form cogent thoughts, much less cogent words, as she drifted into those eyes. Into the scent. Into the touch. Into the intoxicating feeling of being... lost... "Y-Yeah, I mean," she whispered. "Yeah. Hopeless. On their own."

"Weak," Miss Gallica said teasingly. "Vulnerable. Fragile. Delicate. Such beautiful things."

"B-Beautiful." Lilra swayed as Miss Gallica's fingers stroked along her neck. It drifted lower, then, playing with the fabric of her simple blouse. She didn't mind Miss Gallica touching that, she supposed. It wasn't as if it was worth anything anyways, next to someone as clearly precious as Miss Gallica. "W-Weak..."

"Yes," Miss Gallica cooed, "yes, exactly. My darling gardener understands, doesn't she?"

"Uh-huh?" Lilra's voice was filled with uncertainty, because she honestly wasn't sure. She wasn't sure she understood anything right now. She felt so sleepy. So dizzy. So dazed and fuzzy and heavy-headed. But Miss Gallica smiled when Lilra agreed with her, so Lilra managed a tiny nod.

"Good," Miss Gallica cooed, and Lilra found herself quivering in unexpected delight at the praise. "I looove having a delicate, beautiful thing to take care of, you see, and it's very important that you understand that." She leaned in closer. Lilra positively swooned at the beautiful eyes flooding her vision, at the way the rosy perfume positively drowned her in lethargic thrall. She began to circle around Lilra again, and this time, a hand remained under Lilra's chin, stroking and scritching gently. Lilra tried to turn to keep Miss Gallica in her sight, but the hand on her chin stayed firm, keeping the botanist from moving. "It's very, very important that you understand how beautiful you are, darling."

"... ah?" Lilra blinked blearily. Freed from the eyes, she felt a tiny pinprick of uncertainty. That... that was so...

... beautiful? Her?

Beautiful. The word sent shivers of delight down her spine, though she wasn't sure why. Nobody had ever called her beautiful before. The word felt oddly... nice.

It felt nice coming from Miss Gallica, she realized vaguely. Nice when it was said in that sweet, delicate tone, like a silk glove ever-so-softly stroking her cheek.

"Lovely, lovely, pretty little thing," Miss Gallica leaned in to whisper, her voice trickled into the botanist's ear like honey.

Lilra realized, then, that Miss Gallica was circling around her with purpose. She was examining Lilra from all angles. Admiring her. Lilra's cheeks felt like they must be redder than Miss Gallica's hair at this point and as hot as twin suns, and she felt even more flustered at her ratty, unseemly attire.

"Shh." A hand appeared on Lilra's head and began stroking her hair, and Lilra felt her eyelids flutter. To her shock, an involuntary moan of delight emitted from her quivering lips, with as little thought as a breath. "Shush. Good girl. Human girlsalways like headpets, don't they?"

"A-Ah... um..." Lilra's head swam as the fingers ran through her hair, delighting her with that tender, loving care. It felt so nice, even if she were being stroked like she was... like she was some kind of...

"Of course they do," Miss Gallica said slyly, coming back around to face her. She had a finger to her lips, and was smiling smugly, as if she liked what she saw. "It's so easy to drift, isn't it, darling? And so very difficult to think of a reason why you shouldn't."

"D-Drift?"

"Gooood," Miss Gallica cooed, and Lilra's eyelashes fluttered as waves of soft, gentle, sweet pleasure wafted over her. She almost swooned, but the hand stroking her hair kept her upright, eagerly leaning upwards into the touch. "So easy to drift into my eyes. Into my touch. Such a sweet, silly girl, aren't you? Just my adorable silly thing. You're going to be good, now, aren't you?"

Lilra felt her eyelids fluttering. "G-Good..." She felt the words slipping ever-so-easily from her lips, and it felt so, so easy to let the sounds slip out, to give Miss Gallica what she intuitively sensed the woman wanted to hear.

"Gooood," Miss Gallica cooed. "That's right, sweet thing. That's quite alright, my darling. It feels good to drift, doesn't it? Feels good..." She stroked Lilra's hair affectionately, smiling slyly. "... to sink."

Lilra felt herself nodding, dreamy and distant, as her head began to loll.

Delicately-manicured fingers slipped beneath her chin to hold her head upright. She shivered at the touch.

And Miss Gallica's smile widened.

TO BE CONTINUED.