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Blood covered everything. The battle raged, deadly and ferocious.
And then Galahad’s gaze fell on Gawain. His protector, fallen to the ground, a hand wrapped around his wound. An arrow in his abdomen. A wound that could not be healed.
Galahad awoke, his breath caught in his throat and a hollow scream escaping his lips.
Frantic, his breathing would not calm and his eyes searched, scanning the surroundings for blood, unable to smell the same thing that had made him almost vomit before because of its intensity.
“Calm down, Galahad.” Tristan’s voice calmed him.
Galahad scanned him, searching for wounds. He had not seen him before he fell unconscious, but he too could have been wounded in the battle, like Gawain .
“Gawain.” Galahad gasped, as he was sure Tristan was okay.
“He’s right there, sleeping.” Tristan pointed. “As you should, little one .”
Galahad ignored Tristan’s sneering insult, instead following the direction Tristan’s finger pointed, sighing in relief when he saw Gawain, alive and only asleep.
“He was wounded…” Galahad murmured. “An arrow that should have killed him.”
“A dream.” Tristan said.
Galahad whirled around, frowning. “How?”
“You dreamed.” Tristan explained. “Gawain is your friend, and you dream of him being wounded. A dark trick your mind played on you, Galahad. Gawain is fine. And we haven’t fought any battles today. Or this week.”
“You must be desperate.” Galahad said, rubbing his forehead to try to dispel the aches the dream had left in his mind—and his heart.
His hand was captured by a larger one.
Galahad turned to look at Tristan, his breath catching in his chest.
They were on the sand of the peninsula, the promontory that dropped off into the sea.
“Do not fear, Galahad.” Tristan said. “Arthur cares for us. He will not allow us to enter the war unless we can withstand it.”
“I will finish after you .” Galahad murmured. “My service with Rome will end after yours. I will be the last.”
“You will not be the last.” Tristan said. “We will tell Arthur that you have served with us for fifteen years. He will accept. He is the only one, along with us, who knows the exact length of your service. And none of us would ever betray you.”
Galahad smiled. He squeezed Tristan’s hand back. “Thank you.”
“Do not worry.” Tristan said back, smiling slightly. “Gawain would not die, leaving you alone. He is too worried about you.”
Galahad chuckled, before sighing and yawning.
“Rest.” Tristan said. “I will watch over you.”
“Thank you.” Galahad murmured.
And then, he fell asleep, his head on Tristan’s cloak, resting on the sand.