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: Spoilers for Caska's past... though I made quite a bit of it up.

A Winter Interlude

"Caska!" Rickert came bursting through the door of the Hawk's commanders' favourite tavern, bringing a wave of snow and cold air with him before the door closed again. Several of the tavern's patrons complained, but he ignored them as he made his way through the tables to where the rest of the commanders were seated. "Caska, the river's frozen over! I saw them hauling a wagon across it."

The Hawk's second in command took another gulp of her hot mulled cider before setting the mug down. "And I suppose you want another skating lesson?" Caska asked, eyeing his red cheeks and enthusiastic expression. "It's really cold out there, Rickert..."

"Please, Caska?" the youngest Hawk commander wheedled. "Of course it's cold... if it wasn't cold, the river wouldn't be frozen enough. And you know you won't even feel cold once you get going. Please?"

"What the hell is 'skating'?" Guts asked from his corner seat, raising an eyebrow at both of them. Judeau chuckled.

"If you'd spent more time socializing with the rest of us last winter, you'd know," he told the surly swordsman. "Caska's home village was high enough in the mountains that the rivers froze solid every year. People would travel by gliding on the ice on blades strapped to the bottom of their shoes. She's been teaching the rest of us how to do it any time it's cold enough and there's ice available."

"Damn waste of time, if you ask me," Corkus grumbled, taking a large swallow of ale. "What good is it ever going to do any of us?"

"You just don't like it because you can't stay on your feet for more than five minutes at a stretch," Judeau replied, ducking the half-serious punch Corkus aimed at him. Grinning, he continued, "And yet you join us every year, declaring that this year you're going to skate circles around us all..." he trailed off into laughter as Corkus threw an empty mug at him and he was forced to duck.

Caska looked at Guts, a smirk slowly spreading across her face. "You ought to join us this year," she said innocently. Riding had never made Guts sore, and gods knew none of them but Griffith had ever managed to land the massive swordsman on his ass... this just might be her chance to get a bit of revenge on him for the way that everything physical seemed to come so easily to him. "Bonding between the commanders, and all that. I know for a fact that all the training grounds are occupied by the royal and city guards this afternoon, and if you had anything better to do, you wouldn't be in her drinking with the rest of us."

Rickert switched his wide-eyed pleading from Caska to Guts. "Yeah! Guts, come with us! It's tons of fun, you'll love it. Even Pippin comes to watch us, even though he doesn't like to skate. Right, Pippin?" Pippin nodded with a grin. "Please, Guts? You hardly ever spend time with the rest of us."

Caska saw the big man's expression shift from reluctance to resigned acceptance, and her smirk widened. She stood, reaching for her coat and cloak. "All right, if we're going, let's go. The palace blacksmith promised me last year that he'd keep the blades sharp for us, and make some extras in case anyone else wanted to join us. We should be able to find some that are big enough for you, Guts."

By the time they all got themselves sorted out and down to the river, carrying the thin metal blades they would strap to their boots, Caska had joined Rickert in his high spirits. She'd been skating since she was old enough to walk, and the metal blades she'd coaxed the blacksmith into making for her, back when the Hawks had first come to winter here at the palace, were infinitely better suited to skating than the carved bone they'd used back in her village. She loved the feeling of flying over the ice... and, admittedly, loved being so much better at the sport than her fellow commanders. She was definitely looking forward to seeing Guts on the ice for the first time.

First they cleared all the snow from a large section of the river, using brooms borrowed from the palace servants and walking carefully on the slippery ice. Then they strapped the thin metal blades to the bottom of their boots, Caska going around to double-check that everyone had them on properly before putting her own on. Despite that, she was the first one on the ice, as everyone else picked their way carefully down the slope of the riverbank and tottered out onto the ice.

She laughed as she skated quickly from one side of the river to the other, reminding her body of the motions involved. The ice was flat and relatively smooth - perfect for skating. Rickert and Judeau, the best skaters after Caska, joined her after a few moments, and the three of them glided in wide, gentle circles around the cleared area.

Corkus tottered out onto the ice after them, and as predicted by Judeau, he was flat on his back in moments, swearing and thrashing. Pippin chuckled from his seat at the top of the riverbank, and Guts stood balanced awkwardly on the blades just short of the ice.

"Come on Guts," Caska jeered lightly as she twisted around and skated backwards, watching him with a grin. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a little ice?" Rickert attempted to copy her movement and wound up tripping over the ends of his blades, collapsing in a tangle of arms and legs on the ice. Laughing, she slid to a stop and skated back to help him up.

Guts scowled at her. "I'm not afraid of ice or anything else," he declared, visibly steeling himself. "How hard can it possibly be?" He winced as, as if in an effort to disprove the swordsman's statement, Corkus went sprawling again mere moments after regaining his feet.

"You'll never know unless you come out here," Judeau pointed out as he made his way slowly but surely to Guts' side of the river. He managed to stop without falling, and grinned. "Come on, Rickert's right, it's lots of fun. At least... once you get the hang of it."

Reluctantly Guts stepped forward onto the ice. Not having any idea how to make the gliding motions that allowed one to skate, he walked carefully balanced on the narrow blades, scowling in concentration. He made it over the rougher ice near the river's edge without anything worse than a wobble or two, and his face was just starting to relax into a triumphant smile when he hit a patch of smooth black ice. His left foot came down and slide right out from under him. Shifting his weight backwards in an attempt to save himself by balancing on his right foot, he wound up flat on his back when that foot skidded to the side as well. He crashed hard to the ice, a pained grunt escaping him as he landed.

Caska laughed merrily. "Nice to see you're not perfect at everything physical, Guts," she declared, skating up and sliding to a showy stop just out of his reach - not incidentally, showering him with a spray of snow scraped from the ice surface by her blades. "I guess you're human after all."

He scowled fiercely up at her, clambering up to his hands and knees. "This is ridiculous," he declared. "Nobody can balance on such thin blades. Why not make them wider? Or have two of them on each foot to help balance?"

"Wider blades don't glide over the ice properly," Caska told him, "and if you had two blades on each foot you'd trip every time you turned. Trust me, this really is the only way to do it." Bracing her feet, she offered him an arm to help him balance as he stood. He ignored the proffered hand, bringing one foot under him and starting to stand, only to hit his knee painfully as the foot skidded out from under him once more. Valiantly Caska bit back another laugh and simply continued to hold her arm out patiently - after a long moment, he shot her a dark scowl and took it, climbing unsteadily to his feet.

She gestured for Judeau to take his other hand. "Just keep your feet on the ice and don't try to move them for now," she told Guts. "Watch what Judeau and I do." She pushed off gently and Judeau did the same, and between the two of them they managed to get Guts gliding forward slowly. He submitted to the indignity of being towed with ill grace, his dark eyes watching her feet sharply, noting the motions she used to push herself forward.

When she thought he was ready, Caska told him to try a few strokes, keeping hold of the two of them for balance. To his credit, he picked it up quickly... after only a few turns around the cleared area, he was able to skate shakily forward under his own power, with no help from them. Caska left him with Judeau and skated over to try once again to teach Corkus how to stay on his feet.

As the sun started to sink into the west, they were all tired and flushed with exertion and happiness. Guts had started to enjoy himself once he was able to skate under his own power, though he still found himself on his ass on a semi-regular basis. He and Judeau had picked up a couple of small straight tree branches from the riverbank and engaged in an impromptu ice sparring session, trying to figure out the logistics of swordplay while skating. Corkus had given up after a while and gone to join Pippin on the riverbank, entertaining himself with making snide comments directed mostly at Guts and Judeau's mock-fight. Once Corkus had left, Caska concentrated mostly on helping Rickert learn to skate backwards - he was the only one of them proficient enough to be able to do so at all, which thrilled the boy.

At last Caska called a halt. "If we don't get inside soon, we're all going to miss dinner," she pointed out as Judeau and Rickert protested. Even Guts looked disappointed, though he quickly hid the expression from her. "Besides, even if we are warm from moving around, it's freezing out here. We should all go in and warm up."

Rickert tugged on her hand. "Caska, won't you skate for us before we go inside? Please? I like to watch you." She frowned, and he gave her that wide-eyed pleading expression he was so damned good at.

Judeau nodded enthusiastically, and Guts frowned. "Isn't that what she's been doing for the last couple of hours? Skating for us?" the big man asked.

"No, she's been helping US learn to skate," Judeau clarified, making his way to the river's edge and sitting on the snowy bank. "She's a lot better than what you've seen so far."

Caska blushed under his praise and gave in to their pleading. She waited until Rickert and Guts had also made their way off the ice, standing unmoving in the centre of the cleared patch. Once the space was empty, she pushed off, half closing her eyes to shut out the rest of the world and help her concentrate on the feel of the ice beneath her. Faded memories of the happier days of her childhood came to her... mid-winter celebrations full of laughter and excitement, in the times before they had been bled completely dry by the heavy taxes. 'Ice Dancing', they had called it, and there had been competitions held, with prizes for those judged as the best dancers by the village. Caska had been too young to compete, but many of her older siblings had, and they had taught her the skills so that she, in her turn, would be able to enter the competition when she was old enough.

She danced now for her comrades in arms, for the people who had come to replace her blood kin as 'family' in her heart. She danced for herself, for the joy and pain that those early memories brought her now. Most of all, she danced for the sake of the dance itself, for the sheer beauty of it. This was a side of herself that she didn't often show, something beyond the harsh exterior she had adopted to help her survive as a woman in a profession that belonged exclusively to men. For a few moments, she let go of all of that, and just danced over the ice, entranced.

So enraptured was she, she nearly missed the significance of the sharp crack that echoed over the surface of the river. When she realized what it was, her eyes flew open, just as the second crack sounded. Ice... that was the sound of the ice shifting, breaking. She glanced down, and was horrified to see a spider web of cracks radiating over the surface of the black ice she was skating over. Instantly she spun and pumped hard for the river's edge, knowing she had seconds at best to get off the ice before it collapsed beneath her.

It started to shift, and a raised edge caught the tip of her blade, sending her sprawling. The force of her impact finished the job the cracks had begun, and she plunged into the frigid water with barely enough warning to take a deep gulp of air and hold it.

Her skates weighed her down, the heavy metal dragging at her. The river was swift and deep, and the current tugged at her as she doubled over and fought to get the blades off so she could swim back to the surface. Her clothes were soaked through in moments, and their sodden weight was another burden she didn't need. She got the skates off and managed to shrug out of her cloak and jacket, swimming hard for the surface. Her extremities were already numbed by the freezing water... she couldn't feel her hands and feet at all. Her lungs were burning, her chest aching with the need to draw breath, but she fought it fiercely. Just a few more strokes... surely the surface had to be close... she could see the light of the setting sun through the filter of the water...

Her hand struck ice, and she felt around frantically for the edge of the hole she'd fallen through. Nothing... only ice, and more ice, and terror thrilled through her as she realized the river's current must have pulled her away from the hole. The need to breathe was becoming desperate, and she knew she couldn't hold it off much longer. She pounded ineffectually on the ice, not even able to feel the impact of her frozen fist on its surface. Blackness ate at the edges of her vision, and she felt her body stop responding to her frantic demands. Was she going to die here? After everything she'd survived, was this how it was destined to end?

Guts watched Caska skate with something akin to awe tugging at his heart. She was beautiful, gliding over the ice with her cloak flowing out behind her, the light of the slowly dying sun caressing her skin. There was something very free about her in that moment, as if she'd let go of some weight that had been dragging her down. As she balanced on one foot and raised the other behind her, spine curving in a graceful arc, he almost believed she could fly if she just tried hard enough.

From the way Judeau held his breath and the rapt expression on Rickert's face, he wasn't the only one who felt it. Even Corkus stayed oddly silent, his usual sarcastic remarks having no place in the face of something so lovely. In that moment, Guts knew that if Griffith could see her like this, Caska might actually have a chance with him after all.

He didn't understand what the first cracking sound meant, until he saw Caska look down at her feet with a horrified expression as the second crack sounded. She spun and started skating hard for the nearest riverbank, and Guts realized with a sinking sensation that she was standing on the same patch of black ice where he had fallen the first time. The ice was thinner near the river's edge, and the impact of his massive body must have weakened it, causing it to crack subtly. None of them had been near that spot since he'd fallen there... now her weight had caused the already weakened ice to give way.

He saw her trip, saw the ice crumble beneath her as she fell. He didn't realize he was on his feet and running until Judeau tackled him from behind, sending him crashing to the ground just inches from the river's edge. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, rounding on the smaller man.

"If you go out there, it'll just give way beneath you and we'll have TWO of you in the water," Judeau shouted back, eyes wide and frightened, voice shaking with terror that matched the tight sensation in Guts' chest. "Wait until she surfaces, then we'll throw her a rope. She's a good swimmer."

Growling, Guts shook him off and rolled to his feet, though he didn't try to go out on the ice. Judeau was right, damn him. Holding his breath, he counted the seconds as they went by, willing Caska's dark head to appear once more.

"Come on, come on," Judeau muttered, clenching his fists. More seconds past, each seeming like an eternity, but still there was no sign of her.

"Over here!" Rickert screamed from downriver. They spun to see that the youth had made his way onto the ice where it was still firm, and was staring at another patch of black ice in horror. "I see her! She's under the ice!"

Swearing, Guts bolted along the river's edge, Judeau close behind him. As soon as they reached a place where they could be reasonably sure the ice would hold them, Guts veered out onto it, grateful that he'd removed his skates before Caska had started to dance. He collapsed to his knees beside Rickert, and sure enough he could just catch flashes of Caska's pale face and fists as she pounded against the ice from the other side. It was far too thick for her to break through, and he felt his heart squeeze in his chest.

Making a snap decision, he snatched Rickert by the collar and threw him at Judeau, sending the other man staggering back as he caught the boy by reflex. "Get off the ice," Guts snarled, steadying himself and hauling back his fist. Realizing what he was about to do, Judeau choked and grabbed Rickert's arm, back peddling off the ice as fast as he could. The moment he judged they were out of range, Guts threw all of his weight into one massive punch at the ice where Caska was trapped. It cracked beneath his hand but did not give way, so he drew back and punched it again. And again. And as the cracks spread out beneath him, at last he broke through, his fist plunging into the freezing water beneath.

He threw himself forward and fished desperately in the water. She'd stopped pounding, and the current had taken her farther yet downstream. His clutching fingers closed on sodden fabric after a heart stopping minute, and he hauled with all his strength.

Her body broke through the weakened ice, arm and shoulder appearing in the air as he pulled her up... and the ice beneath him gave way, dumping him bodily into the river beside her. He tumbled into the water, fist closing tightly around her arm so that he wouldn't lose his hold on her. Better that she have a bruised or even broken arm than that she be dragged away from him by the current.

He surfaced quickly and swam hard, fighting to stay in the open area where the ice had broken. He knew if they were pulled under the ice again, it would be the end of both of them. Already the frigid water sapped at his strength, stealing warmth from his limbs as he struggled to catch hold of the edge of the ice with his free hand. It kept breaking beneath his grasp, widening the hole and giving him nothing to cling to.

Finally he managed to get hold of a piece that didn't immediately crumble. Grateful for the chance to rest, even a little, he looked up and saw the others clustered on the riverbank. "Hang on, Guts!" Judeau called. "Rickert went for rope. We'll have you two out of there in no time!" Despite the forced cheer the other man had injected into his voice, Guts could tell he was anything but calm about the situation. Small wonder... if they spent more than another minute or two in the water, the cold might kill them even if they didn't drown. And as the river continued to sap his strength from him, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold onto the ice forever.

He hitched Caska up higher against him, wanting to be sure her head was above water. She was limp in his arms, and when he glanced down he swore as he saw that her eyes were closed and her lips were blue. She wasn't breathing. Cursing, he pulled her around to face him, and lowered his mouth to hers, forcing air into her lungs. The situation felt far too familiar... at least the last time, they hadn't been freezing as well as drowning.

He didn't dare let go of her or the ice in order to pound on her chest to start her heart, but thankfully after a couple of forced breaths she started to choke up water, starting to breathe on her own in ragged gasps. Her eyes stayed closed and she didn't move, and he was just as grateful. If she'd returned to consciousness and fought him at all, she might have broken his rapidly weakening grip on her and been lost beneath the ice.

A thick rope came flying over his head to splash into the water behind him. "Grab hold!" Judeau called from the bank. Taking a deep breath, Guts released his hold on the ice and grabbed for the rope. For a terrifying moment he couldn't make his fingers close over it, and the current started to drag them both under the water again. He forced his hand to close with the strength of desperation, winding the rope around his arm a couple of times for good measure. The others started to haul on their end of the rope, dragging them slowly through the water.

Every inch was painstakingly gained, as they would be hauled up onto the ice a few inches, only to have it break beneath their combined weight once more. Thankfully they weren't more than a couple of meters from the river's edge, and finally warm hands tugged at his arms and he felt the shallow riverbank beneath his body.

"Pippin, get him out of the water," Judeau shouted, as he and Corkus tugged Caska free of his arms and out of the river. Pippin leaned forward and slung Guts' arm over his massive shoulder, lifting even Guts' heavy form with relative ease. Guts couldn't seem to make his body move or obey him in any way, and he realized with dismay that he couldn't feel his feet or hands at all either. Hell... he couldn't feel his arms and legs, never mind his feet and hands.

"We have to get them back to the palace," Rickert said, dancing around them anxiously. "I heard the nobles have an indoor bathing room, that has hot water in huge copper tubs ready all the time in case they want to take a bath. That would warm them up!"

"Good thinking, Rickert," Judeau said, wheezing as he and Corkus hauled her up the steep riverbank. She wasn't a light woman at the best of times, and the water in her sodden clothes was rapidly turning to ice in the freezing air, making her even heavier. "Run ahead and find Griffith, tell him what happened. He'll be able to get us access to the baths."

Rickert took off running as the others made their way painfully slowly back to the palace compound. Guts struggled with himself, trying to shake off the lethargy that had seeped into his very bones. Oddly, he didn't feel very cold, although his thoughts seemed to have to swim through molasses to reach his brain. All he could really seem to focus on was the nearly overwhelming desire to go to sleep, but something nagged at him, telling him that sleeping was really the last thing he wanted to do right now. He couldn't for the life of him imagine why... sleep seemed so VERY appealing right now...

He was jolted back to reality by the feel of scalding water splashing over him - no, as HE was dumped into water that felt hot enough to boil the flesh off his bones. He yelped, or tried to, but nothing came out, and his body still wouldn't move. "Stay with me, you two," a familiar voice said over his head. Vaguely, he identified it as Judeau. "We didn't haul you all the way up here just to have you die on us now..."

He forced his eyes open, confused as he saw a ceiling above him. Hadn't he just been outside? "Wha..." was all he managed to get out. Massive hands were hold him down in the water, and he could feel solid metal against his back. A... bathing tub? Tiles on the walls... was he in a bathing room of some sort? It certainly wasn't the one in the barracks that the Hawks used - their tubs were wooden, as were the walls. And he couldn't imagine how they'd gotten the water so damn hot, or why they seemed determined to cook him alive.

"Welcome back," Judeau exclaimed, face appearing in Guts' line of sight as the smaller man leaned over him with a relieved smile. "You had me worried for a while there... you passed out on the way back." Despite the relief in his voice and smile, there was still a tightness to the skin around his eyes.

"Where..." Guts coughed, the spasms cutting off the rest of the sentence. He nearly went under the steaming water, but the huge hands hauled him up again, and he realized Pippin was holding on to him, keeping him from sliding under the water. He was still fully clothed, and the water around him was rapidly cooling as the ice in his clothes melted into it.

"The noble's bathing room," Judeau told him, correctly interpreting his question. "It was the only place with enough ready hot water to warm the two of you up." At his words Guts became aware of another body against his side. He turned his head, and saw Caska next to him in the tub, being held up by Judeau just as Pippin was holding Guts. Her eyes were still closed and her lips still blue, although she was at least breathing on her own.

"You should have seen Griffith arguing with the nobles," the knife-thrower continued with forced cheer. "They didn't want to let commoners like us in to sully the purity of their bathing room, I guess. He argued them down and sent them running with their tails between their legs, let me tell you. Hold on, we're going to change tubs... the water in this one is getting cold."

Pippin lifted Guts bodily from the water, though by now Guts had finally managed to regain some use of his body and was able to help him. He and Caska were carried to a second tub and dumped in once more, and this time Guts did yelp at the heat of the water against his frozen skin.

"It's too fucking hot," he growled, trying to pull away from Pippin's grasp and get out of the tub. Pippin merely grunted and held him more firmly.

"It only feels that way because you're so cold," Judeau told him, placing Caska carefully beside him. She twitched and murmured something, frowning, and Guts breathed a silent sigh of relief. She was waking up. "Stay put... you're not going anywhere until your skin doesn't look so blue, my friend. You nearly died out there, you know."

"All right, all right," Guts mumbled. As the water slowly warmed his frozen body he started to shiver, sending hot water sloshing over the sides of the tub. He couldn't remember ever being this cold before... there was a frozen core within him that didn't seem to be touched by the heat of the water. Then again, he'd felt that way since the moment he'd seen Caska plunge through the ice, so maybe it didn't have anything to do with his actual body temperature.

"Griffith says neither of you are to leave your beds tomorrow, on pain of being lectured severely by him," Judeau told him. "The doctors looked you both over as he was arguing to get you in here and said you'd probably be fine if you got warm quickly and didn't try to overdo it for the next couple of days. The rest of us are supposed to sit on you, if that's the only way to convince you not to get up." There was laughter in his voice. "He'd have stayed to tell you himself, but the king called for him and he had to go."

Guts growled softly, but didn't really have it in him to argue. He was too exhausted, and his body was starting to ache, letting him know it wasn't happy with his treatment of it. Caska shifted against him, and he wrapped an arm around her and drew her close to him automatically. Her eyes opened, and she blinked up at him fuzzily. "Wha..."

Judeau laughed. "You two really are too similar in some ways, you know that?" he asked rhetorically. "You're in the palace bathing rooms. You fell through the ice, and we're trying to warm you up," he added to Caska. "Hang on, we're changing tubs again. Last time... we're almost out of hot water."

Guts managed to get to his feet himself this time, with only a little help from Pippin. He staggered over to the third and last metal tub in the room, sinking into it with a grateful sigh this time. The water felt pleasantly hot now, and he'd mostly stopped shivering. This tub was smaller than the other two, and they had to put Caska on his lap to fit her in with him. He wrapped his arms around her automatically, and though she scowled at him, she didn't fight him.

"Don't get any funny ideas," was all she said, her voice raspy with the sound of an oncoming cold. Come to that, he wasn't feeling too hot either... their icy dunk had probably left them vulnerable to all sorts of colds and flues. Come to that, maybe staying in bed tomorrow wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"I won't," he promised her. She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder, apparently going to sleep. He didn't blame her... now that he was warm again, he was starting to feel sleepy as well.

Rickert and Corkus entered the room, arms laden with heavy wool blankets. "We got them," Rickert exclaimed. "The quartermaster didn't want to let us have them, but Corkus gave him a black eye and he changed his mind."

"Don't think I did it for your sake," Corkus spat at Guts. "I only did it 'cause Griffith told us to."

"All right, let's get you two out of the water, dried off and into bed," Judeau cut in hastily before a potential fight could get started. Guts and Caska were hauled out of the tub, Caska waking again as they were towelled off and wrapped in thick blankets to keep them warm on the trip to their rooms.

"Caska..." Guts said as they separated in the barracks, Judeau and Rickert helping Caska to her room as Guts staggered towards his. She looked back at him, only half awake. He chuckled. "You'd better stay away from rivers when I'm not around. This is the second time I've had to save you from one."

She growled at him as the others looked back and forth between them in confusion, but there was a half smile playing on her lips. "Don't get too full of yourself," she warned him sourly. He laughed and grabbed his half of the 'requisitioned' blankets, staggering into the bunkroom he shared with his Raiders. He shed his soaked clothes and collapsed on the bed, pulling the extra blankets over him, and fell asleep with the remembered image of her dressed in nothing but his shirt dancing in his mind's eye.

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