A/N: I was shocked at the serious lack of Berserk fiction! So I decided to contribute, which mans this probably won't get reviewed because no one's been on here for awhile...at least besides me, I'm guessing! This will be short, a one shot, basically Caska reflecting on her relationship with Griffith. NOT a romance, and slightly AU/OOC on Caska's part. I'm stretching her respect for Griffith into something more. P.S. I'm not happy with how this turned out...but I tried.
Disclaimer: Don't own, Don't sue...or Mary-Sue for that matter!
He had saved her that day on that lonely stretch of road. He had saved her from hell. Ironic, now that it was he, her protector, her hero, who had become her worst enemy.
Ever since he had taken her under his wing, as a young girl, Caska had admired the fair young man. But as she grew, so did that admiration. Admiration turned to respect, and respect to love. She worshipped the ground he stood on, even if secretly. Everything he stood for, she stood for. And so when it seemed he had taken a liking to Princess Charlotte, she tried her best to like the girl as well. But her emotions betrayed her.
It wasn't until later, during a battle, that Caska realized that maybe her golden hero, was not quite so pure inside as well as outside, but gold-plated. His dreams were suddenly selfish, his thoughts and ideas benefited only himself. And so, Caska reluctantly removed herself from him, afraid of what he might become.
As Caska distanced herself, anew friend, Guts came into the picture. He took over as Griffith's unswerving loyal servant. Caska could only look on, loathing Guts for what he stood for, for what she had stood for.
It wasn't until she confronted Griffith about the drastic measures he had taken to fulfill his dream of power. She confessed to have seen him up on a balcony, half naked, with the local pederastic Lord. When he explained how he was willing to pay any price, to sell his own body for money-as long as it would help attain his final goal-he was willing to do it. He confided in her, his deepest emotions, his depression, his fears, and all she could do was hold him and cry for him.
Then where had Griffith gone? It seemed that once his looks, and spirit had gone, so had the Griffith Caska had known so well. He was more irrational than ever, running away, and eventually handing over the lives of his loyal men for his own greed.
Caska knew then, as 'Femto' held her naked body, that this man was not the man she had cherished so long ago. As this monster took her body against her will, she knew Griffith was dead. But had she ever known Griffith? Had he always been this way, maybe Femto was his true form. Tears in her eyes, she could only think of one thing before she passed out:
He had saved her that day on that lonely stretch of road. He had saved her from hell. Ironic, now that it was he, her protector, her hero, who had become her worst enemy.