Disclaimer: I do not own 'Berserk'; this is only a fanfic.

Author's Notes: Hello everyone! I truly love Berserk, but waiting for the old Casca's return and reuniting with Gutts in the manga is becoming a chore. I don't know why it's being delayed, but we've waited long enough.

I want to thank my reviewers for my last update - Shisoukengo - my faithful; it's a pleasure reading your comments and I'm glad this fic still interest you. You better than anyone understands my rant about the manga.

Thank you DragFire - I think there are plenty good Berserk fics out there. It's definitely worth pursuing, and with fanfiction, the possibilities are limitless.

Thank you all who added this fic as a favorite and those who are following.

Without further adieu, please read, enjoy and leave a review.

Chapter 8: Melee

"Lord Griffith!"

The heel of my boots thudded against the pristine marble floors of the palace, the attached spurs clanging with each step. My voice echoed through the halls and resounded in my ears, as I searched for our commander.

We were about to go to war; once again Chuder was relentless in their quest to annihilate the Midland forces and in preparation, there was barely enough time to hold funeral services for Lord Julius, the king's brother. Many nobles attended the obsequity, but it was clear only a few mourned. Julius may have been one of their own, but was not one who endeared. If there were mourners present, it was for the sake of young Lord Adonis, Julius's son, killed along with his father that fateful night.

The murderer or assassin was never identified, which caused quite a stir amongst the aristocracy and had many increasing the security in their homes. The rumor was an assassin, was sent from Chuder to kill the two leaders of Midland's forces. The arrow Griffith took during the hunt; supposedly for Lady Charlotte, was actually meant for him, not the princess. As that attempt had failed, the assassin had targeted General Julius and had succeeded.

For a while, I had suspected Gutts. Which wasn't fair; once again it was my intense dislike for the man coupled with my suspicious mind that I had even entertained such thoughts. Thankfully, this time, I had kept my suspicions to myself. Without proof, I would have been ridiculed by, not only Gutts' men but also Judeau, Rickert and Pippin; Corkus would have thoroughly enjoyed the accusation and would have, most likely, become my most enthusiastic, yet solo supporter. I shudder at the thought.

With the battle approaching, Midland's dignitaries graced the halls of the palace. Everyone from the king's counsel, sovereignty to the church had gathered here, and I felt a sense of satisfaction to walk amongst them. My uniform now bore the kingdom's crest, and as one of Griffith's high ranked soldiers, I had access to the manor's main level. There were no odd looks at my presence, as I strode down the hall with my helmet tucked under my arm and I smiled inwardly. At that moment, I looked up to see Griffith descending from the third level. I stopped and started to call out to him, but...

"Lord Griffith!"

Lady Charlotte's voice sounded panicked, as she intercepted Griffith on the stairway of the second tier. The princess was out-of-breath as if she had run a distance and panted heavily. And yet not a hair was out of place, and her clothes were immaculate, and I watched her timidly approach our commander.

"Princess Charlotte?" Griffith turned, to the young woman descending.

"Are you - are you departing already?" the princess inquired, and I retreated behind the granite newel post at the bottom of the stairs. It was to allow the two privacy; wasn't it? I mean, I wasn't eavesdropping.

"Yes," Griffith answered. "I am leaving now."

"Please, take this," the princess extended a gloved hand. Griffith reached out and withdrew what appeared to be a necklace of some sort. "It's not a valuable piece," Charlotte panted, still winded. "But it belonged to, my mother, the former queen. It was a keepsake of hers."

Griffith looked surprised, as was I, but he held the item for a moment and then said, "I cannot accept something so precious," he extended his hand to return the pendant to the princess. "It wouldn't be right."

"No... please, carry this with you," Lady Charlotte protested, she took Griffiths hand and closed the pendant in his palm. "The necklace is made of lodestone," hastened to say. "One is male..." she paused, withdrawing a similar pendant from the folds of her skirts and continued, "... and the other is female." She showed the gendered piece. "I've been told the two pieces are attracted to each other."

"Therefore, if I wear the female stone," Charlotte continued, attaching the pendant to the slender chain at her throat, "... and you wear the male stone, we are destined to meet again. Surely, this necklace," she touched the intricately carved woman that now adorned her throat, "... should draw yours back, returning you home from the battlefield. So please, accept this - for me," she pleaded.

I inhaled, same as Princess Charlotte, and awaited Griffith's answer.

"No..." he responded, "I cannot accept such an important keepsake of your highness," Griffith informed the princess. I gasped, surprised he denied Charlotte's simple request, and a tiny flicker of hope fluttered in my chest, but the feeling died with his next words. "Therefore, once I return from this battle, I will surely return this to you," he said clutching the pendant to his chest.

Charlotte's happiness was evident; her blue eyes sparkled, misting with unshed tears, while my dark eyes dimmed, standing here clutching my helmet with my head bowed, yielding to the power of feminine persuasion.

"Never before have I dreaded a battle as much as I do now," Charlotte whispered. "Please, Lord Griffith, be safe and... please... return to me."

Griffith bowed, I'm sure, and next, I heard footsteps as he descended the stairs. I turned to move from behind the granite post when the princess called out.

"You there, Knight..."

I could only assume she was speaking to me as I was the only knight in the vicinity. I turned back, bowed low and responded. "Yes, your highness!"

"Please, be sure to guard Lord Griffith well!"

What a foolish order, I thought looking down at the marble tiles. It was my duty to serve this man, long before I knew of Midland and Princess Charlotte. I protected him when he was a simple mercenary, long before he became a viscount of this kingdom. Why would I fail to do so now? That was what I wanted to say, but instead, I responded, "Yes, your highness. I will protect him with my life."

My vexation must have, somehow, communicated itself to Griffith, as he placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. Looking up into his blue eyes, which glimmered with warmth and understanding. He smiled, and I returned it. "Let's go," he ordered, and I fell behind him, feeling both appreciative and another emotion, although entirely foreign to me, it was one I readily recognized.

Cattiness - was one way to describe this sensation. It was a feeling a woman experienced when having the advantage or power over another. Griffith and I were destined for the battlefield, a place Charlotte would never share with him, and I felt a temporary satisfaction. Albeit the feeling was short-lived, it was enough to raise my spirits, and I was forced to acknowledge I possessed, at least, one feline trait common of my gender.

XXXXX

Midland's gates swung open, and Griffith made the call for all units to move out. The 'Hawks' regiment was leading the campaign against Chuder and the Blue Whale Knights, and everyone was energized and ready to do battle. Judeau, Pippin, young Rickert, and even the cowardly Corkus, seemed eager to engage the enemy.

Gutts, however, was more subdued than usual. He had been that way since the night of the murders and overhearing Griffiths inspirations. Gutts, as well as I, were forced to realize that ultimately we were merely pawns in helping another obtain a dream. Deep down, a part of me had always known, I was just in denial. And yet, even though I had heard it from Griffith's own mouth, still a part of me wavered, feeling an odd sense of loyalty and I'm sure it was the same for Gutts.

As we stood on the hillside facing Chuder's army, I felt the first stirrings of discomfort. "Ugh... no, not now!" I whispered, grimacing as pain gradually intensified in my lower abdomen. The spasms were so sharp that I clenched my thighs in the saddle, and my horse thought I was giving the signal to move forward. As I reigned in my mare, as well as struggling with the monthly discomfort that set me apart from the rest of my peers, Judeau would have to notice.

"What's wrong, Casca?" The knife wielder asked. "You look pale."

"N... nothing," I stuttered and was grateful that at that moment, Griffith gave the signal to charge. "Come on, let's do this," I said, as I lowered my face protector to move forward.

XXXXX

I hated this time of the month; my body was weaker than normal, my movements slower. It was the worst time for a battle, but I had to persevere. My opponent wasn't that strong, but it seemed that way. My sword arm ached with each strike against the persistent halberd lance, and I was winded much too early. It was fortunate there was no need to rely on brute strength to defeat my assailant, and after a few parries I closed in, found an opening under the armpit of his armor and delivered the fatal blow.

Sitting astride my mare, I took a moment to catch my breath. The constant clang of weapons, battles cries and the gurgling sounds of death thudded in my ears and left me lightheaded. My vision blurred; I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to recover and reopened them to find myself face-to-face with Chuder's commander, Adon Coborlwitz.

"So... it's you," he spat. "The 'Hawks' female commander I've heard much talk about."

"So... what's it to you?" I sneered, showing bravado in my current state.

"Hmph!" Coborlwitz sniffed. "I can't stand it; a woman playing at being a knight, it's absurd." His cold gaze swept over my person. "Women are inferior to men in strength; they're useless and have no place on the battlefield."

"Why not try me then?" I challenged.

Adon Coborlwitz laughed, causing an annoying buzz in my ear and sent a shiver down my spine. "What's so funny?" I asked. Although rumored the Chuder commander's bark was worse than his bite, in my current condition, I knew to proceed with caution.

"You." Coborlwitz's voice had dropped a suggestive octave. "I imagine you keep your men very warm at night," he said.

"What?!"

"No doubt you earned such high rank by climbing into Griffiths bed!" he spat. "And since that is the case," Coborlwitz continued, "... then I'll take you up on your invitation. I would definitely like to try you."

I lost it then; rage, red as the blood spilled on this battlefield, took over. I had earned my place in the 'Hawks' through hard work, sheer determination and will and I'll be damned if I would not allow this misogynist ass nor anyone to say that I slept my way here. Mindless of my weakened state, I nudged my mare forward and blindly charged.

"You bastard!"

The power behind the trident type polearm took me by surprise, knocking my helmet from my head. I was able to block but lacked the stamina to repel the attack and, with my sword in hand, I felt myself falling. The ground rushed up to meet me; I landed on my shoulder, bounced and then rolled to a crouched position. Before I could stable my footing, another jab from Coborlwitz's trident had me leaping back a few paces.

"The battlefield is a man's sacred ground and 'you,' a woman, have desecrated it!" Chuder's commander yelled as he bore down upon me, whirling his trident overhead. "That is why I, Lord Adon, leader of the Blue Whale Super Assualt Knights will punish you for having the audacity to set foot upon it!"

I had braced myself for the attack, but the first blow nearly felled me. From his horse, Coborlwitz advanced in a flurry of powered strikes, overhead blows, sweepings slices, and jabs that, had they connected, would have surely penetrated my armor. I was able to parry but felt my strength waning.

"Commander!"

My men called out to me, but I never took my eyes from Coborlwitz. "Stay back!" I ordered.

Chuder's commander was an egotistical idiot, but he was strong, and it was proven as my words fell on deaf ears and my men attacked. I looked on in horror, as Coborlwitz took down five men with one swipe of his trident.

"Casca!"

Judeau's concerned voice reached me.

"Stay back," I shouted again. "I can handle this guy." I held my sword in both hands and retreated only to realize I had backed myself into a corner.

"Weaklings," Coborlwitz spat, as he looked down with contempt at the men he had just slaughtered. "All weaklings, led by a woman," he scoffed.

I watched as Coborlwitz advanced, unable to move as I was inches from the edge of a cliff. Lifting the trident, and pointed the three-pronged blade at me. "What's wrong?" he asked, his lip quivered in a half-smirk, half-sneer. "Nowhere to run?"

"Damn you," I growled, looking up into hostile eyes through the helmet's grid. Suddenly, those eyes changed. It was a look I recognized from years ago and what precipitated my becoming a member of the 'Hawks.'

"I don't know why you insist on dressing a man when you're, obviously, an attractive woman," Coborlwitz murmured, the lust evident in his eyes as he moved his steed closer, blocking any exit. The tip of his trident pointed at my chest, and it didn't take much to imagine his thoughts. "I'll give you one last chance," Chuder's commander began, "Surrender and become my obedient captive and I will spare your life. And by obedient, I mean you will have the high honor of becoming my company whore."

"Never!" I screamed in my mind. His degrading offer repulsed me, but I was not surprised. I would never become a spinless plaything for any man; I had fought against it, had killed to prevent it and would rather die to avoid it. "Go to hell!" I sneered.

"Then die!"

I gasped and closed my eyes against the inevitable. After many battles, I honestly cannot say I had never envisioned dying on the battlefield. In truth, I avoided the thought of death. And now, as I stood here about to be cut down, I still could scarcely believe this was my end. Seconds ticked by, as I waited for the final blow that never came.

The neighing of horses and the sound of clashing steel had me opening one eye to find a familiar broad back standing between me and that Chuder bastard.

"Gutts!"

I have never been so glad to see that man nor that monstrosity of a sword that effortlessly held off Coborlwitz's strike.

"What the hell's the matter with you," Gutts barked, as he stared at me through his helmet guard.

"Captain!"

"It's Gutts!" The 'Hawks' cheered.

I stood spellbound, watching through a misty haze as Gutts, with a guttural growl, forced Coborlwitz's back. My body was so weak and hot, and I cursed the cause, the monthly menstrual demon of women. I was spared, but could only stare stupidly. But, Gutts hadn't saved me, not Casca. Gutts had rescued a comrade, a fellow officer serving under Lord Griffith.

"Come on, let's fight!" Gutts challenged Coborlwitz. "I need it," he hissed, his voice anxious. "I have to fight... to keep swinging this sword until I can't think of anything else."

I heard Gutts' despair; felt his anger, a battle aura that seemed to radiate from his pores and I knew, as well as understood the reason. I saw the look in his eyes, the firm set of his jaw, the bulging forearms from the tight grip on his sword and thought Coborlwitz three times the fool for not heeding the signs.

"Oh-ho... you blocked my attack, boy!" Chuder's commander was startled momentarily. "Seems you got lucky, but lightning doesn't strike twice!" Coborlwitz shouted, and then launched into a boorish family monologue. "You won't be able to stop this... behold; the ultimate spear technique passed down through the Coborlwitz family for over..."

The fool droned on and on, and my dizziness intensified just hearing him speak. My head ached; my throat was parched. I sensed Gutts' move, and I turned to him, but he was a blur in my sight. I took a step forward to test my legs, but they felt wobbly and decided it was best to stay put. Darkness had started to invade my peripheral vision as I heard cheers roaring in the distance.

Suddenly, he was there - Gutts. I looked up to his hulking frame as he entered my line of vision. He looked sinister, sitting astride a dark horse, with his dark cap and wearing that perpetual scowl, his eyes dark and piercing.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Gutts barked, glaring at me. "I've never seen you like this before."

I didn't respond; I couldn't. I felt faint but fought against it. Gutts was still scolding, I could see his mouth moving, but the only words I could grasp were, "... going to get yourself killed!"

I swayed back as if someone had jerked my cape from behind and I was falling in slow motion.

"Hey!"

The sound rang clear, repeatedly and then dulled to a faint echo. The pain in my pelvis had stopped, and I welcomed the reprieve. The air was cool on my back, and then suddenly there was warmth. I ceased to think - to be, as the all-consuming pitch-blackness swallowed me.

'Til next chapter...