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Disclaimer: Berserk and its related characters and situations belong to Miura Kentarou, not me. I'm not making any money, from this or anything else, so suing me would really be a waste of your time. C&C is ALWAYS appreciated; flames will be cheerfully used to roast marshmallows. Warnings: Um... spoilers for the third disk or so... some vague yaoi hints. My body belongs to Griffith. In the years since I first joined the Hawks, I've worked hard to be as good as - no, better than - any man in Griffith's army. I've honed my body to be the best I can possibly be. I've spent untold hours training with weighted weapons, building up muscle tone and endurance. I've trained in the rain, in the sleet, in the snow, in the burning sun. All of it to prove to Griffith that he hadn't made a mistake in taking me on. To show him that, female or not, I am his most loyal and dedicated soldier. Sitting here, dressed in nothing but Guts' shirt, none of my efforts seem sufficient. How can a simple piece of clothing be so intimidating? I knew he was bigger than me - I'd have to be blind and an idiot besides not to realize it. There's no shame in that; he's bigger than most of the men in the army, too. But I hadn't realized how much bigger. I'm drowning in his shirt - I can tuck my entire body inside the material, and there's still plenty of room to spare. Small wonder he can swing that sword of his as though it's made of nothing heavier than paper. No man should be allowed to be that big, with that many muscles. It's just not fair to the rest of us. How are we supposed to compete? I could train every minute of every hour of every day, and I still wouldn't be able to measure up to him. My mind belongs to Griffith. I've learned everything I know because of Griffith. He taught me to read - not just letters on paper, but how to read and interpret maps, supply lists, scout reports, battle plans... everything a commander needs to know. I trained my body by day, and my mind by night, studying tactics, strategy and logistics by candlelight. All so I could rise in the ranks, become someone that he could count on, rely on... depend on. If there is one thing I can cling to, one thing that comforts me... Guts may be Griffith's favourite now, but I am Griffith's second. Guts has no head for strategy or tactics - all he knows how to do is charge in and kill people. And no matter how effective he is at it, he is no leader of men. Yet somehow his Raiders are fanatically loyal to him, though half the time it seems he's leaving them behind while caught up in his own battle rage. Not that he is stupid, though he occasionally acts as though he hasn't a brain in his head. I've seen him, sitting quietly on the sidelines; watching, listening, learning, absorbing. Because he is big and quiet, many think Guts is stupid - that is their mistake. Frequently it is their last. My heart belongs to Griffith. How could it be otherwise? All who follow him, worship him. He has the charisma of a king, or an emperor. He has drive and ambition enough for three men, and the leadership ability to compel others to willingly give their all to help him achieve his dream. Any man in his army would die for him, and be happy to give his life for Griffith's service. What girl doesn't fantasize about a handsome knight in shining armour, come to slay her evil tormentor and sweep her away to a new life? My tormentor was certainly evil enough, and no man could be more handsom than Griffith, though he wasn't a knight then. If the slaying and the new life parts didn't go quite according to the script, well... in some ways, this was better. He didn't just free me, he gave me the means to free myself. And I've never looked back, never regretted my choice. How could I not love him? How could I ever think to love another? What man could possibly measure up to Griffith? None. But Griffith... has never looked at me that way, in the way of a man appreciating a woman. I don't fool myself... he will never love me that way. I'm not sure his dream leaves room in his heart for him to love anyone that way. Except... except... why was he so determined to have Guts join us, three years ago? Why does he go to such lengths for Guts? Why is it Guts, and no other, who can drive him to irrationality? Calm, cool, level-headed Griffith... if Guts were a woman, I would say that Griffith was behaving like an overprotective lover. Is that why I've never had a chance with Griffith? Is it that he doesn't like women at all? My soul belongs to Griffith. I live for him. I fight for him. And I would willingly die for him, did he ask it of me. He is the light that shines in the darkness, leading us all on a path to hope for a better life. He's accomplished so much already, and there will be more yet to come, I have no doubt of that. Sometimes it seems as if there is no joy, no brightness, unless Griffith is there to share it with. Who among the Hawks couldn't say the same? Perhaps... only Guts. Not that he isn't loyal to Griffith, because he is. Not that he wouldn't fight to the death for Griffith, because he would. But of us all, he is the one who holds himself most aloof, most distant from the burning bonfire that is Griffith's light. And I wonder if there is anything, or anyone, that he would give his soul to completely? I belong to Griffith. Body, mind, heart, and soul. I always have. And I always will. Won't I? Sitting here, in this cave... surrounded by the heat and scent of Guts, rising from his shirt... watching him, who saved my life in battle, and afterwards when we fell from the cliff... looking into his oddly open face, his expressive brown eyes, as I tell him my story... Suddenly I'm not so sure. | |
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