A Dog Among Princes

Chapter 18

“You think this is the right place?” Casca half expected to find a forge built into the caldera of a secret volcano when she heard they were staying with the smith that forged Guts’s swords. Instead she found a quaint little cottage nestled idyllically in the mountains, with an adjoining forge and a small barn to board clients’ horses while they waited for their commissioned weapons to be done. It was an immense relief and oddly unsettling at the same time. It was almost too normal. Casca felt like something was going to jump out of the bushes and hit her over the head. A blond girl about Rickert’s age carried a bucket of water towards the house. Seeing the gathered troops she put down the bucket and waved.

“You must be Guts’s friends! He said you’d probably be here soon.” This was definitely the right place.

“Do you know where we can find him?” Casca asked.

“He and Griffith went into the woods maybe an hour ago. They’re probably still out there somewhere.”

“Griffith, think they’re here. You sure this is safe?”

“Yeah it should be fine, I’ve done it plenty of times already.”

“While you were carrying something?”

“…”

“Griffith?”

“Well there’s no other way for us to get down anyway.” He pulled into a dive.

“Griffith!”

Casca heard the sounds of a struggle but she couldn’t tell where it was coming from.

“You’re coming in too fast! We’re going to crash!”

“No we’re not. It’ll be fine! Just keep your knees bent and dig in your heels like I told you.”

A dark shadow began to form on the ground. Casca looked up to try and see what it was, but the sun was too bright. Suddenly there was a flash of silver.

Guts dug his heels bringing them to a screeching halt. He stopped them too quickly. Griffith’s momentum continued forward, knocking both of them on their faces. Griffith’s wings unlatched and they flipped up and over his head.

“Ow, fuck! I told you we were going too fast.”

“Center of balance was off.” Griffith mumbled defensively.

“Can you let go of me? I can’t get up.” Griffith released his grip on Guts’s shoulders. Guts pushed himself up onto his knees. His unhealed ribs hurt like hell and his head spun from the speed of their descent. He felt bile begin to rise up his throat. “I feel kind of sick.” He heaved. Griffith scrambled away from him as quickly as possible.

“No, no, no, no, no! Don’t you dare puke on me!” Casca stared at them incredulously. Why did she want to come see them again? Griffith’s helmet folded backwards until it melted flat against the back of his neck. “Surprise!” Griffith smiled at the mercenaries. Guts puked.

He was acting…silly. They both were. What the hell had gotten into them?

“Are you two drunk?!”

“No, just, not supposed to go that fast.” Guts was still a little green.

“Are we just supposed to ignore that they fell out of the goddamn sky?!” Corkus shouted. Griffith drew himself up to his full height. His metal skin and silk wings glimmered in the sunlight. He wore rough clothes, Casca thought she recognized Guts’s handiwork there, but it only made him look more brilliant in comparison. It was as if he’d been sharpened to a razor point, all of his features simultaneously heightened and made more dangerous. He was balanced elegantly on the very thin line between transcendent beauty and sheer terror.

“I would say that’s a rather uncharitable interpretation of what occurred, Corkus.” He stalked forward. Casca caught a flash of talons from under his cloak. They clicked softly on loose rocks as he advanced. Every instinct, every hair that stood on end told Casca to run. The thing that was approaching was dangerous, she needed to get out. She resisted the urge. Corkus did not and took off full tilt in the other direction. “What’s gotten into him?” A look of genuine concern came over Griffith’s face and the spell was broken.

A year ago he would’ve hidden that. He would have smiled through it and pretended nothing happened to avoid showing weakness. He would’ve gone to figure out the cause later, but he would have never shown concern in the moment. Griffith had changed. But it hadn’t been all in one moment as she’d feared he would. It had been incrementally over the months without war and threats of assassination. He had been like a bow string drawn so tight she was afraid he would snap at any moment, but the peace had given him some much needed slack. Well that and-

“Guts are you alright?” The girl asked as he struggled to stand.

“Yeah, just a bit disoriented, Erica.” He heaved again and put his hands on his knees to brace himself. “See, I’m fine! Nothing came up that time.” How did she lose to that? Well at least he was a good influence on Griffith. As much as she would’ve called herself crazy for even suggesting that could be the case. He was stubborn and boorish but would also be so on behalf of others. He was completely unafraid to call others on their bullshit, something Griffith rarely did for himself. Instead he let his resentment fester until it erupted into violence. It had been good for him to have someone so stubbornly on his side, who so easily saw through his self sacrificial bullshit.

“I’m glad you’re alright Griffith.” She took a deep breath. “Volunteering the services of the band to rout the Black Dog Knights was the wrong call. It was needless to put you and everyone else in that much danger. I apologize for my rash behavior.”

“What’s there to apologize for? I was the one that broke formation. You and Guts had the situation handled. I let my fear overpower my trust and I paid the price for it.”

“It was too steep a price to pay for such a small lapse in judgement.” Casca’s eyes flicked to the seam at his neck.

“If anything I feel it was too lenient. I got eighteen daggers and a custom fitted suit of armor out of the deal.”

“Griffith…”

“I am perfectly happy with how things ended up. Truly.” She looked him in the eyes and for once, she actually believed him.

“So, how exactly does it work?” Rickert had been absolutely enraptured with the complicated mechanisms that made up Griffith’s body. It wasn’t exactly safe to take him apart for study, so he figured it would be best to ask the inventor. Godot had initially resisted having a kid hanging around in his forge while he was working, but had eased up when Rickert explained he was an apprentice.

“Hell if I know. Half of what’s on there was your friend, not me. What I made was essentially a statue. I’ve made the occasional prosthetic before but nothing even half as complex as that.” He hammered away at the cudgel, he refused to call that hunk of iron a sword, that he was forging for Guts. “There’s ways to manipulate the joints of a metal arm to force them to move. You can even embed particularly strong magnets into the iron to force it to hold a blade. If you want to talk about ways to strengthen natural magnets, I know plenty about that, but whatever is going on inside your friend is beyond me.”

“But that’s impossible.”

“Isn’t it?” Godot raised an eyebrow. “All I know is that when the witch put his head on the thing, that’s when most of the mechanical bits on the surface and inside formed. Though by her reaction I think she was as surprised as I was. Way she described it beforehand, I figure she thought the veins would take root and that’d be it. Although I guess we did think it was a little odd he wanted boning in his cloak. Though I’m no connoisseur of fashion.”

“Oh.” What Godot had said earlier finally hit him. “Wait, a magnet strong enough to hold a blade?!”

“See now that’s something I can explain. Once this beast is quenched, I could show you the process if you’d like.”

“Really!?” Rickert jumped from his chair.

“No use in creating new techniques if you don’t pass them on.”

“Are you really okay with all this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Guts asked. Griffith had gone off to find Corkus so Guts had been forced to take over hosting duties. He had decided to take the men who had come up to the base of the waterfall. It was unseasonably warm, so a few took advantage of the cool mountain water. He and Casca sat on the shore, just watching for the moment.

“When, we found out about what that amulet was and what it meant, I was pissed off. I tried to keep calm about it sure, but the idea that he could’ve ever done that to us,”

“But he didn’t.”

“He didn’t but the point still stands. He was chosen because all those monsters thought he would do it. But even then I could kind of understand why you’d decide to stay with him. You’ve definitely been good for him, I honestly don’t think he would’ve made the same choice without you there, but is he good for you? I mean, he isn’t even human anymore, Guts.”

“He’s still Griffith.”

“Yes, but-“

“He’s still Griffith.” Guts asserted. “I’d care for him if he was a potted plant.”

“Guts you’re planning to marry him! It’s not enough to just care for him! Do you love him? Do you still find him attractive?”

“Do you want me to be honest?”

“Yes!”

“You have to promise not to be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you? I’m asking for your honesty?”

“Do you promise?”

“Sure, fine, I promise.”

“Physically, I didn’t used to find Griffith particularly attractive.” Casca stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “You promised not to be mad.”

“I’m not mad. I’m too fucking confused! First, why the hell were you pursuing him if you didn’t find him attractive? Second, what do you mean you didn’t find him attractive he was-“

“Beautiful. I know. I’m not saying he wasn’t. For the record, I was attracted to him, but it was for his personality not his body. He was beautiful, sure, but in an almost fragile way. Like if I held him too hard he’d break apart in my hands. If he was a weaker person, I never would’ve been as taken with him as I was. It would’ve been like lusting after a victim of consumption.” Casca could sense the unspoken part.

“And now?” Guts’s ears turned red.

“Well he’s not exactly going to break.”

“Yeah, he’s made of metal.” Casca said incredulously.

“He is,” Guts said dreamily. God was that why he was acting like an idiot? Well like more of an idiot than usual.

“And the claws?!” Guts turned beet red.

“…You don’t think they’re hot?”

“No! Why the hell do you think they’re hot? You know what? I don’t think I actually want to hear the justification.” She took a deep breath. “Look, all I was trying to say is, don’t feel like you have to stay in a relationship you don’t feel happy in anymore, but clearly that’s not an issue for you.”

“So if what I’m into is so crazy, what do you look for in a partner?”

“I don’t know, I guess somebody competent but non-threatening, longer hair is a plus but not a must, slighter build.”

“You know who that sounds like right?” Guts nodded in the direction of Judeau in the water.

“Shut the hell up!” Now Casca was red.

“Hey, turnabout is fair play.” She punched him in the arm. “Well good to know some things don’t change.” He rubbed his arm. “We’ve gone through so much insane shit over the years and your first response is still to just hit me.”

“No it’s not!”

“You just did!” They stared at each other but then the intensity broke. Casca started giggling and Guts followed quickly behind.

“You’re such a child.”

“You’re the one who can’t use her words.” She punched him again, lighter this time, jokingly.

“I’ll show you where you can put your words, Princess.”

Corkus had found a nice little spot to curl up and die. Just a week ago he’d thought he’d died and been sent to hell. Now he thought that might’ve been better. Griffith was going to kill him, he was convinced. He’d interpreted what he’d said as an insult. Corkus was fucking dead. At least he was going to be somewhere beautiful when it happened, but he did wish he had a girl by his side to comfort him. He heard the sound of massive wing beats. Here he was, the Grim Reaper himself. Corkus laid back onto the ground, accepting his fate. “There’s better places to take a nap, you know.” Griffith touched down lightly, barely making a sound as he stepped out of the air and onto the soft dirt.

“Just make it quick.” Corkus groaned. “Never thought I’d make it this long anyway.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re here to kill me aren’t you?”

“Of course not, I came to make sure you were alright. You ran away so suddenly I thought something might be wrong.” Corkus opened his tightly shut eyes. Griffith stared down at him curiously. RUN RUN DANGER DANGER! Corkus squeezed his eyes shut again. Nope, not going to do that again. Griffith always made his hair stand on end a bit, but it was never that bad. “Is everything alright?”

“Yup everything’s fine.” Corkus felt around on the ground trying to get a feel for the environment without sight before he sat up.

“You don’t seem fine, Corkus. Can you at least look at me?”

“Did I ever tell you why I joined the Band of the Hawk?”

“No, I suppose you didn’t.” Griffith answered slowly. “Was it not because I bested you in combat?”

“It wasn’t just that. I was a cockroach back in those days. Even if you managed to rout me I’d just come back and kill all your guys when you went to sleep.” Corkus opened his eyes again but stared into the middle distance away from Griffith. “I might not be the best fighter, but if there’s one thing I’ve got it’s sense.” That was underselling it honestly. Corkus’s ability to sense danger was uncannily accurate. It was almost like a second sight. All it had taken was one look at Griffith back then, “From the moment we met I knew there was no way I could ever beat you. Even though you were just a kid, I knew I was completely outclassed. So, I joined up. Better to have you in my corner than against me.”

“You still haven’t told me what’s wrong.”

“Griffith, every single instinct I have is telling me to get the hell away from you and it’s taking everything I’ve got not to.”

“Would it be better if I was out of your line of sight?” There was something in his voice. Was that disappointment? No, hurt? Corkus forced himself to look at Griffith. DANGER DANGER DANGER. He was a coward, yes, but he could do this much for the commander who’d gotten him to where he was today. He did look a little hurt. His eyes were downcast and he played with a strand of his hair. It was almost funny to see the man, who he knew was probably the most dangerous creature he’d ever met, acting like a teenage girl.

“No, that’d probably be worse. Look, I’m probably gonna be a little jumpy around you for a bit, but after that I should be alright. It’s not your fault.”

“Is that why you never liked Guts?”

“You gotta remember he did kill my friends. But yeah, that was part of it.”

“How dangerous is he?” Griffith felt like the sun, bright and unyielding and hellishly hot. He could tell just by being in his presence that he wasn’t something to fuck with. Guts was like a bottomless pit. It was deceptive, there was nothing supernatural, nothing particularly magical or special about him, just that endless expanse of nothingness. It didn’t fill him with the same white hot fear as Griffith, just a slow creeping dread that got worse and worse the longer he was around him. It was easy not to notice until he was locked in the jaws of that abyss and pulled deeper and deeper inside until he could no longer see the light of the entrance. Any time Corkus thought he could see the bottom, finally see the limit of Guts’s strength, the chasm yawned wider and swallowed him whole.

“That’s the thing, it’s damn hard to tell.”

Griffith and Guts didn’t get to see each other again until late. Both had to deal with their own contingents of concerned friends and subordinates. During his extended solitude, Griffith had taken up residence in the cave behind Godot’s cottage. The two had decided to meet there when everything died down for the night. Guts arrived to find Griffith already there, bathing in the spring at the cave’s back.

“Took you long enough. Would you care to join me?”

“I’d love to.” Guts pulled off his boots. “I’ve had a long day answering stupid questions.”

“You as well then.”

“I think everyone might be a little weird about you for a while but they’ll get back to normal eventually.”

“That’s the sense I got from my conversation with Corkus as well.”

“Well Corkus is always skittish. Even if nobody else was weird he was going to be a little weird.”

“Stupid questions?” Guts eased himself into the water.

“Yeah, just Casca giving me a hard time as usual.”

“What about?”

“Well she was interrogating me on whether or not I still thought you were attractive.” That gave Griffith pause. He’d been so caught up in his own euphoria he hadn’t thought of that.

“Well, do you?”

“Alright, first off don’t go getting any ideas about trying to change yourself to better suit me or anybody else. Not after you gave that whole speech about feeling like yourself for once in your life. If anybody gives you shit send them to me. But if it gives you peace of mind, yeah I think you’re fucking hot.”

“You don’t have to spare my feelings if you don’t.”

“Shit, not you too. How goddamn hard is it to believe that I’d still be into you?”

“Well I’m much changed from how I was when you first fell in love with me.”

“Well so am I, you didn’t fall out of love with me when I shot up half a foot two years ago or when my fucking hair started turning white at eighteen.”

“Well come on now, I think it makes you look distinguished.”

“So like an old man then. Fantastic, it matches my joints.” He was only nineteen, but repeated injuries and strain already made his shoulders and hips pop loudly if he stood too quickly.

“I feel that you’re being unfair to yourself. It’s not as if any of it was displeasing to me. You have to admit the changes I’ve gone through are a bit more extreme.”

“It’s not as if anything that changed about you is displeasing to me either.” Guts said in a low voice.

“I don’t think you ever imagined a partner like me when you were alone at night.”

“I’ll give you that.” Guts took a clawed hand into his own and brought it to his lips. “But I might’ve if I had a better imagination.” He brought a hand around to grab Griffith’s ass.

“Well, aren't we eager tonight.” Griffith teased. It was rare that Guts initiated, still overly cautious since the strangling incident.

“I haven’t seen you since this morning,” Guts ran his thumb over Griffith’s nail beds, “and besides, we still don’t know everything that this new body is capable of.” He took his hand from Griffith’s ass to tease at his slit.

“And would you take responsibility for deflowering this chaste young maiden?” Griffith batted his eyes jokingly.

“If you want me to give you more than a promise,” He fished around in the pockets of his discarded clothes. “Might be a little big but it’ll do for now.” He slipped his signet ring onto Griffith’s ring finger. Having been sized for Guts’s pinky, it fit well enough. “I can see about getting you something nicer when we get back, if you want.” Griffith looked down at the seal on his finger.

“You know what this means right?”

“It’s only for my personal use as well as that of my closest family. I’d count my future husband as part of my closest family, Griffith.”

“You really mean to still go through with this, even as I am? Even if you still find me beautiful, you’d be known as the mad king who bedded a monster.”

“Like I said, anybody has a problem, they can take it up with me. I wouldn’t have anyone else.”

“How do you feel about being held down?”

“Still a hard no.”

“Ridden?” Guts thought about it for a moment.

“Hmm. That I think I could handle.” Griffith pushed Guts against the side of the spring and stood straddling him, his hips in front of Guts’s face.

“Go on then, don’t make me beg.”

“Now look at who’s the eager one.” He brought both hands back around to Griffith’s ass to press him against his mouth. And what a fantastic ass it was. Griffith was a fencer, it hadn’t been awful before, but now it had bulked up nicely to better support the crushing power of those beautiful legs and talons. Even with his big hands Guts could get a proper handful. He licked into Griffith’s slit enthusiastically. Suddenly steel was the best thing he’d ever tasted. Griffith grabbed onto his short hair to steady himself as Guts’s tongue met the head of his cock. It began to descend from its hiding place into Guts’s mouth, making him groan around it. With Guts’s lips latched around Griffith’s lower ones, it was almost like a filthy approximation of a kiss.

Guts began to spread Griffith’s cheeks to gain better access to his hole. His thumb met the edge and he touched something slick. He pulled off of Griffith’s dick.

“Is something wrong?” Griffith’s pupils were blown wide and he was already beginning to pant, unused to the sensitivity of his new skin.

“Turn around for me for a second?” He obliged. A clear liquid leaked out of his hole. Guts took some between his fingers and rubbed them together. They were slick. “You’re self-lubricating.” He licked his fingers, tasteless except for a lingering hint of metal.

“What?”

“You’re getting wet for me, Griffith,” He growled. “You’re so good, preparing for me like this.” He slid a finger into his opening. The metal parted easily to accommodate him. “And look at you, letting me in so easily. It’s like you were built for me.”

Griffith turned back around slowly, keeping the finger still inside. He grabbed a hold of Gut’s hair. “Far from it. It is merely that you are so warped that no one else could satisfy you.” He forced Guts’s face to his cock. “I can offer you things no other man or woman could ever hope to. I’ll ruin you for anyone else.” He unsheathed his claws, letting them prick lightly into Guts’s scalp. He moaned softly in appreciation. Guts looked into Griffith’s eyes.

“Yes, my king.” He took Griffith’s cock back into his mouth and Griffith howled in pleasure. Guts drove a second finger into his entrance as he squirmed.

“Stop! Stop! I’m getting too close!”

“You really liked that one, didn’t you?” Guts licked the pre from his lips.

“Just shut up and fuck me already.” Griffith ground down on Guts’s fingers. He slipped in a third finger. That ought to be plenty. Guts withdrew his hand. He worked the spare slick still on his fingers onto his own cock. Griffith eagerly lined himself up.

“You’re still a hundred percent sure about this?” His dick was so tantalizingly close to the rim of Griffith’s entrance. “You could probably classify this thing as a weapon.” Griffith slammed his hips down taking Guts to the root.

“What did I tell you about shutting the hell up?” Guts desperately scrambled for purchase on the wet rock. He was so tight and hot. Small imperfections on the metal surface of his innards dragged mind numbingly over the sensitive skin of his cock. His desperately searching hands finally found something to grab onto. Griffith’s claws suddenly dug into Guts’s shoulders. The shot of pain brought him back down to earth just enough to realize he’d grabbed onto the edge of Griffith’s wings.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Guts dropped the aggressive act for a moment. He loosened his grip a little. Griffith dug his claws in deeper.

“Don’t you dare let go.” The intensity in Griffith’s eyes pushed him over the edge again. Guts gripped harder. Griffith collapsed forward as he came. Guts followed soon after, spilling into him. Griffith slipped off Guts and curled up next to him. He fondly kissed the scratches he’d torn into Guts’s shoulders. “I couldn’t have asked for a better first time.” Guts sat forward in surprise. The wheels in his head creaked slowly in his haze. Right! New body! So that’s why he made that joke earlier!

“Glad I could help.” He didn’t really know what to say. What could he really say to that? Griffith didn’t have to look at himself and remember what had been ripped from him anymore. Now he just had the memory of what he and his loving partner had done here. Guts wouldn’t want to renounce his own body and replace it with something else, but fuck was he envious of that. The wheels ground forward another inch. Wait a second. “I think you’re the first person I ever fucked. I mean I’ve been fucked before but…”

“Did you like it?”

“Yeah, I really fucking did.”

“To first times then.”