A Dog Among Princes

Chapter 8

Judeau was surprised that Griffith had agreed to go shopping with him and Casca. He’d never come with them before. Judeau supposed that could’ve been because he was always so busy, but even now it didn’t seem like he was really enjoying the experience. He didn’t look at any of the wares on display, instead he watched the crowd or stared off into nothing. His eyes drifted out of focus, looking through the world to peer at the one that existed only in Griffith’s mind. It reminded him of Guts more than anything. How he'd occasionally find him sitting somewhere staring at his sword like he was trying to divine meaning from the chips and scratches in the blade. The image of Griffith fighting with the same reckless, rage-induced abandon popped into Judeau’s mind. Now that would be a scary sight. It was clear that something was worrying him but Judeau knew he’d have to wait until Griffith came forward with the information rather than trying to press him on it.

Their commander was much more cagey than he seemed at first glance. Guts was cagey but he always held his secrets close to the vest. He only ever shared information that he deemed innocuous. Very little of it actually was, his “funny childhood anecdotes” were usually some of the most distressing things Judeau had ever heard, but Guts thought they were innocuous. Griffith was trickier. He would freely volunteer information about times he was most vulnerable but in a very controlled way. He would only speak about things like that years after, when an emotional distance had formed between the him from back then and the him now. People tended to think that what information he offered was it, after all if he was willing to talk so openly about his assault what would he have to hide? The answer of course was, anything that was bothering him in the present. His controlled openness allowed him to keep his veneer of invulnerability in the present. All he had to do was smile that practiced smile and say nothing was wrong, he was just tired or distracted, and most of the band would believe him. Not Judeau or Pippin though, they both saw through it, not that they’d ever say it to his face. That was a good way to get yourself put on stable duty for a month if you were a friend and a good way to wake up with an arrow in your neck if you were anybody else.

Casca for her part didn’t seem to notice. She’d been avoiding both him and Guts since the coronation. It was completely understandable of course. She harbored feelings for both of them and now it seemed inevitable that they would end up together. No matter how much she cared for them both as friends, it must have still been painful to see them together. So for now it seemed she was making herself scarce. Because of that however, she’d been spending significantly more time with Judeau. He wasn’t sure how he should feel about that. On one hand he’d been able to spend time with her but on the other hand it was specifically because she was having a hard time. The foundations of most of her relationships had been built on mutual misery. Judeau didn’t want theirs to be the same. God it was so stupid for him to be entertaining that. Over all the years they had known each other he’d never had the courage to tell her how he felt. Why the hell did he think he could do it now? A lot of impossible things had happened lately. Why couldn’t he? Because he was a coward, a damn coward that’s why. Casca pointed to a necklace on display.

“What’s that black thing inside the stone?” The vendor looked over at the pendant she was looking at.

“Oh that’s a wasp. Well it was a wasp, now it’s an inclusion in the stone.” Griffith seemed to perk up in interest.

“Like dragon bones!” It was a rare occurrence but once and a while stones containing the bones of great beasts would be unearthed in Midland. The band had seen one such skeleton after a particularly bad week of rain. They had been hiding from the enemy at the base of a limestone cliff. The rain had sloughed off layers and layers of mud and sand revealing a huge skeleton beneath. To Judeau’s eyes the thing had looked more like a whale than a dragon, save for its long neck and four leg-like fins. Despite most of the rest of the band cowering from it thinking it was an ill omen, Griffith had been fascinated by the creature. That's how he always was, he formed fixations on the strangest things.

“Dragon bones? Ah, you mean fossils. Yes you could consider this to be similar.” Judeau looked over. It was a teardrop shaped pendant similar in shape and size to Griffith’s. In the center was a small black wasp, perfectly preserved as if it had just gotten stuck there.

“How much?” Now both Judeau and Casca noticed something strange. Griffith wasn’t wearing his amulet. Judeau was shocked he hadn’t realized before. Casca had been avoiding him but Judeau had no excuse. The stupid thing was bright red! How hadn’t he noticed? He and Casca made eye contact as Griffith happily put the pendant around his neck. What the hell was that about? “What do you guys think? Neat right?”

“It looks nice. What happened to the other one?” Casca asked carefully.

“Oops!” He looked down, seemingly surprised that it was gone. “I must’ve dropped it somewhere,” he said blithely. Something was seriously, seriously wrong. Casca seemed like she wanted to jump in and interrogate him on it but stopped herself.

“I saw a stand selling pastries earlier, I’m going to get a quick snack. Will you two be alright by yourselves?” She glanced at Judeau, if you want to find out what’s wrong, be my guest. But I’m not getting myself involved anymore.

“I’ll keep him out of trouble,” Judeau joked. I don’t know what makes you think he’ll tell me anything but sure go for it.

They watched her walk away and Judeau prepared his course of action. Open with joke to catch him off guard, make him think the revelation was his idea, advise if within capacity.

“Judeau, how do you tell someone you love them?” And with that he was completely knocked on his ass. He sputtered trying to recover.

“I think you have significantly more experience in that department my friend. You don’t exactly see people lining up to court me.”

“This is probably going to sound terrible,” he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, “but I’ve never really cared about anyone I’ve courted in the past. It’s very easy to fake displays of affection, I just copied what I saw others do. A touch to the shoulder here, a seemingly philosophical conversation that just happens to neatly align with their already held beliefs there and people will fall all over you,” he waved his hand dismissively as if that wasn’t still an impressive display of his social prowess. Once again he propped himself up even as he laid himself bare. Couldn’t show too much weakness could he. “Genuine affection on the other hand is something I never had need to express before, and now suddenly I find myself at a loss. I am a master at parlor tricks Judeau, and now I need to learn real magic.” He cast his eyes down fiddling with the pendant. Griffith was avoiding eye contact. He really was serious about this.

“Why ask me? It’s not like I’ve had much experience with romance. There’s people far more qualified to answer this question than myself.”

“You really like her don’t you” Judeau blushed.

“That’s really neither here nor there…”

“You’ve probably thought about telling her hundreds of times haven’t you?” Griffith smiled playfully. “If anyone among us has put as much thought into romance as you, I’d be hard pressed to find them.” He wasn’t winning this one, was he.

“Well first you need to figure out how you like expressing affection and how the person you’re pursuing likes expressing it. Most people tend to like giving and receiving affection in one of five ways: kind words, gifts, physical touch, offering service, or spending time with one another. Usually most people exhibit a combination of those five but I’d avoid touch, at least in the beginning to avoid making the other party uncomfortable.” Guts did hate being touched. “It’s also probably best to build up over time starting with smaller gestures. Make your intentions clear through action first before you confess your love aloud.” Guts wasn’t oblivious he’d pick up on it. He also intensely disliked being put on the spot. Slowly working his way up to be bolder and bolder was probably Griffith’s best bet. Then again Guts had seen him naked before and hadn’t been scared off so who knows. Maybe an aggressive strategy would work better.

This was a waste of his time Guts thought as he lifted his arm. The court seamster finished pulling his tape measure around Guts’s chest.

“Don’t worry this won’t take much longer, just a few more measurements.” He moved to wrap his tape around Guts’s bicep. Guts pulled away.

“You should probably leave those off. The seams will pop within a week.”

“Nonsense! Not if everything is fitted correctly.”

“Look, the sleeves being fitted is the problem. If I move my arms too much the fabric will pull the seams out.” The man scoffed and gestured for his assistant to bring over a bolt of fabric. He held the end in one hand and stretched the fabric a good distance before allowing it to snap back in place.

“Anything designed to cling close to the body will be made out of this Kushan cotton. It’s soft, but flexible, and should hold up well against stress. Is that satisfactory?” Guts shrugged.

“You’re the expert, just trying to save you some work.”

Guts felt spent after the fitting. It was strange, he’d fought each of the knights of the Black Rose one by one that morning and felt refreshed, but simply having to speak to other people for protracted amounts of time was exhausting. Maybe it was a matter of stamina, like the exercises he was having Isidro practice. His body was strong and his will to fight was well developed but his patience needed a great deal of work. He could hear Casca scolding him for his impulsiveness in the back of his mind. Yet another person he’d neglected as of late. He remembered those long stints of time when Griffith would disappear into the mire of salons and drawing rooms around Midland in between battles. Guts was starting to see why, he just hadn’t had the time or energy to talk to anyone between engagements. All Guts wanted to do now was retreat to his room and take a nap, and this was after only one major appointment.

When he eventually made it back, his room was mercifully empty. He had been surprised that morning when a servant came to wake him while he was changing. Apparently they’d be in and out throughout the day cleaning or bringing him news or meals. The faster he figured out a way onto the roof the better. At least up there he’d probably be left alone. As he sat down on the still far too soft bed he noticed something on the bedside table, a book. Ah, Griffith. What nonsense was it this time. Griffith had made a “fun” game of hiding that illustrated sex book he had in different spots around his tent. He’d always leave it open to a different illustration as well, so that it was always a surprise. This “fun” game usually ended with Guts yelping in surprise upon finding it, hopefully with nobody else there but regrettably sometimes with company, slamming the book shut, and then tracking down Griffith and whacking him over the head with it. Guts sighed. Better see what he was on about this time.

This one was mostly text, very helpful, with a few illustrations at what seemed to be key points in the story. The majority seemed to be of two men, one beautiful and delicate almost reminiscent of Griffith the other large and scarred kind of like him. Oh, that was kind of funny. Maybe Griffith had left it for him due to the sheer curiosity. Guts kept flipping through, the two men hunting, the two men playing with a child that looked like the more delicate one, the two of them holding up the head of a large monster. Ah another funny similarity, Guts and Griffith hadn’t killed Zodd obviously but these two had fought a similar monster. Okay so maybe Griffith was trying to make him feel more comfortable, these two men that existed in the past were similar to them, had even gone through similar things and they were revered enough in the court to have an illuminated text written about them. Oh wait, he spoke too soon. They were kissing now. Damn it, he had lulled him into a false sense of security.

But that wasn’t quite right was it? Griffith knew Guts couldn’t read, even if the text disputed the illustrations, he would’ve probably assumed that Guts would make the connection between themselves and the depicted couple. And the illustration was certainly much tamer than things Griffith tried to trick him into looking at in the past. Did he-? No that couldn’t be it.

“Enjoying the book?” He quickly snapped it shut. Griffith leaned in the doorway. “It’s technically a very important legal text along with an interesting history. I thought it might be a good way to help you learn to read as well as advance your political education.” Guts stared dumbly at him. “Are you going to invite me in? It would be a major breach of etiquette for a mere general to enter the crown prince’s personal chambers without express permission.”

“Uh, yeah you can come in.” Griffith was tightly drawn. He was playing it off by talking more than was necessary but the tightness in his shoulders and bags under his eyes were unmistakable. Oh right! He fished the behelit out of his pocket. “Did you lose this? I found it outside this morning.” Or more accurately it found him. It did hit him on the head. Griffith’s expression briefly showed a hint of shock before he regained control of himself.

“Thank you, Guts. I appreciate you returning it.” He tossed it in his own pocket rather than putting it around his neck.

“Is something wrong? You don’t seem like yourself?” If anyone else had asked that question Griffith would’ve thought it was an attack. Are you this fragile, commander, that you would show your weakness so freely to your men? But it wasn’t anyone else, it was Guts. He never sought out dick measuring contests. Guts knew precisely who he was and that he didn’t have to prove anything. If he was asking it was out of genuine concern, not the need to feel superior or the need to pity him.

“May I sit?” He gestured at the space on the edge of the bed next to Guts. He nodded. “There’s been a great deal on my shoulders as of late.”

“I mean if it’s getting to be too much, don’t overextend yourself for my sake.”

“No no, it’s not that. I enjoy research. No, there’s just much I’ve had to come to terms with as of late.” Griffith felt Guts startle against him. He had leaned into him without even noticing. He made to pull away, but Guts stopped him.

“It’s okay, just spooked me is all.” He reached out his left hand. It hovered a moment in hesitation before he brought it to stroke Griffith’s hair. He looked at him as if to ask “is this okay?” Griffith leaned into the touch to say “please don’t stop.” “You said you’ve been coming to terms with things?”

“A lot has changed in such a short period of time.”

“A lot has.”

“Periods of massive change like this, they make me turn inward. Seek out stability in the self, but instead I found myself much changed.”

“You seem the same as always to me.”

“I suppose I am,” he smiled against Gut’s shoulder, “but there were parts of me that I didn’t previously allow myself to see. Ambition can be a crutch just as much as anything else. A way to place blinkers on the mind and give it singular focus at the expense of exploring any kind of interiority. In other words, a way to avoid thinking about anything that didn’t have anything to do with ambition. And now, I don’t have that crutch.”

“You didn’t abandon your ambition because of me did you?”

“Who said anything about abandoning it?” He looked up at Guts through his thick lashes. “I simply don’t need to fight for it anymore.”

The two stared at each other and both felt the edge of the precipice they stood on. It would only take a small push. “Like I said, I’ve had much to come to terms with.” Griffith moved his face up closer for a kiss. Guts backed away in surprise. Griffith corrected himself, pulling away. Guts caught his face in his hand and looked him in the eye. He’d just been caught off guard, it was alright. Now they both clumsily moved closer, accidentally bumping noses. Their lips met and suddenly it was just them. There was no kingdom, no demons, no sword hanging over their heads. Nothing had changed; they were just two teenage boys beating the living shit out of each other again. Griffith pulled away first. Both of them took a moment to catch their breath and then Griffith fell back on the bed laughing.

“God was I really that bad?”

“No, no you were perfect. It’s just, we could’ve been doing this for years now but I was too caught up in my own bullshit to notice how I felt.”

“Oh really, General ‘Do I need a reason each time I put myself in harm's way for your sake’?” Guts wasn't normally the type to tease but he still felt high off the kiss.

“Shut up.” Griffith punched him in the arm.

“Just so you know if there’s anything else bothering you-“

“I know, I know. But it’s something I need to do myself. Just” he pulled the behelit out of his pocket. “If you ever see this stupid thing again leave it where it is. Don’t touch it unless it’s to throw it far away and whatever you do, don’t give it back to me.” He'd found something out about that creepy little thing, clearly something that disturbed him.

WHEN HIS AMBITION COLLAPSES DEATH WILL PAY YOU A VISIT!! A DEATH YOU CAN NEVER ESCAPE!!

“You don’t have to tell me twice. I never liked that fucking thing.”