Crimson & Clover {OC x GUTS} Berserk

5. Light Me On Fire

She let out a sigh. She should have been gone. But rather, Marcella stood in the ballroom, in another fancy gown, waiting for the honorary guests of tonight's even to arrive.

Each time the ballroom doors opened her eyes would dart to see who it was entering the room. She would speak to Guts and flee. She had her bag packed and stashed by the eastern gates of the castle. She would see the swordsman and then she would leave. Simple.

Not simple.

The minute the members of the Hawk entered they were surrounded by a sea of people. Marcella looked to Charlotte who seemed distressed. Each time she tried to get Griffith's attention he looked elsewhere. It was almost as if he was purposely avoiding her tonight.

Marcella watched as Guts got away from the crowd and sat on a bench. She made her way across the ballroom to him, determined to get this part over with so she could leave.

Just as she was about to approach him, a woman with short brown hair ran up and took his hand. She was beautiful. Absolutely stunning. She took his hand and pulled him to his feet.

"Just pretend you're with me for a little bit," and with that, she pulled him outside onto the balcony.

Damn.

Marcella hid by a window, avoiding the gaze of the ball's attendees. She watched as Guts and this woman spoke. The she realized, this woman was the female soldier, Casca, who was in love with Griffith. Yet, even with this knowledge, jealousy swirled within Marcella. Guts looked at her so tenderly. These two were clearly close.

Still. Marcella couldn't leave until she spoke with him. She needed to.

Finally, the Casca walked back inside. The king was about to begin the toast. She walked past Marcella without even noticing.

That was normal. That was good. Marcella took a deep breath in. Her stomach flipped. Butterflies.

Marcella stepped out onto the balcony where Guts sat staring up at the night sky.

She cleared her throat lightly, "Hello."

He met her eyes, "You..."

"I'm glad to see you are all back."

"You're the eldest princess?"

"Yes."

"Why did you help me that night?"

"Because you helped me. Even though you did so unintentionally, I guess I felt I owed you."

"Julius... was your uncle."

"Like I said before, he was a vile man."

Guts scoffed and turned away, "You don't owe me."

"I know. But... I..." she was being drawn to him as they spoke.

"I didn't do it for you."

"I know," she stood right next to him, debating on reaching out and touching him. But she dared not touch her hand to his body, not yet, "I'm leaving."

No response.

"I was hoping you could help me with something."

"And what would that be?" he turned towards me once more and leaned in, almost as if he was trying to intimidate her. Trying to get her to leave him alone. Trying to gauge her reaction.

And what he got was unexpected on both of their behalf's. Marcella straightened her spine, standing as tall as she could next to this giant of a man. She propped herself up onto her tippy-toes, one hand held onto the balcony's stone, the other hand she kept tucked behind her back. She leaned forward and kissed the swordsman before her. She had intended to kiss only his cheek, but he had turned at the last moment. Now she stood beside him, with her lips pressed to his lips. And rather than pulling away in shock, the princess pressed into Guts as if to say, 'yes, this is happening.'

When she finally pulled away, he looked stunned. Guts opened his mouth to speak, his brows furrowed, but no words came out.

She gave him no room to speak, instead she rested back onto her heels and met his confused gaze, "I need you to help me fake my death."

~~~

Perhaps that was the reason she needed to speak with Guts so badly. She had quickly grown to hate the idea of her impending marriage and even a single day spent inside the castle walls. He and Griffith already had a plan to destroy those who opposed a commoner's rise to power. She didn't know the details and frankly, didn't care to. Guts simply said her death would fit perfectly in the narrative they had created. Marcella, although she was against Griffith, she was more relieved that Charlotte would be rid of the Queen. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that she and Griffith would be wed and rule over Midland together. And while she knew he didn't love her, she couldn't fathom he would bring any harm to her beloved sister.

Marcella could no longer stay in the presence of those who didn't want her, of those she couldn't agree with or fit in with. And she certainly wouldn't allow herself to be forced to spend the rest of her life with someone she didn't know.

Guts led a black horse her way as the castle went up in flames behind him, "You ain't so bad after all."

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone talks about you as if you're some vile bitch. You ain't."

Marcella took the reins from Guts, her soft fingertips gently brushing his, "Well, thank you, I suppose."

"Where are you headed?"

"I'm not sure."

"Don't get killed, Princess."

"I'm not a princess anymore," she grunted as she hopped onto the horse's saddle.

"Don't get killed...Ma –" he was cut off as she held her finger to her lips, "Marcy."

"Bye, Guts," she said as she settled on top of the horse, "Thank you for all of your help."

As she rode away, Marcella touched her lips, enjoying the lingering feeling of Guts's rough face scratching against hers.

Marcy... she liked the way it sounded on his lips. Yet, she would need an entirely new name from this point and onwards.