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Searing, white-hot pain in his gut.
A gasp, hands grasping at wet leathers and coming back red, knees buckling and strength leaking away into a puddle in the dirt. Vision spinning, and... and a cry of fear from a voice that was not his own.
Loghain squinted against the sun at the figure above him, blonde and beautiful-- it could only be Maric. Nobody else was that perfect. Why was he so frightened? Was he crying? Loghain reached up to touch his face, but recoiled at the sight of blood on his hands-- it wouldn't do to get that on the prince's face.
Maric's voice swam in the chaos of shouting men and clashing swords, but Loghain held onto it like a lifeline. It was all he could do. "Maric," he breathed, aching to see his beautiful prince's tears stop.
Maric dragged him. It hurt, it made his sore muscles scream with pain, but his mind dulled everything down. It only settled when the movement stopped, and Loghain was relieved to realize they were in the shade now. "Maric," he repeated, reaching out, and the prince took his hand despite the bloody touch.
"Loghain, there's so much blood!"
"What...?"
"Loghain, you're bleeding!"
That snapped everything into perfect clarity. Loghain was bleeding, and it needed to stop. It needed to stop now. He barely even registered what he was doing, it was all muscle memory as his hands tore a thick strip of fabric and tied it around his middle.
"Loghain... Loghain, you can't die, let me press on the wound to stop the bleeding, I'm not going to let you die... Loghain, look at me, please don't look away from me, you can't die, please don't die, please, please--"
"I'm not going to die, Maric!" His voice seemed to startle the other. Sobbing, trembling, gasping-- the prince was the picture of terror, and there wasn't a damn thing Loghain could do to stop it.
All he could do was lie there in the dirt, pressing on his wound as the blood just kept coming, and watch. It ached.
"Loghain," Maric whimpered, looking down as his trembling hands brushed the other's dark hair out of his face. "There's so much blood..."
"Don't cry." Loghain looked at him with such tenderness that it hurt, but the kiss they shared pained them the most. It was so painful and so perfect, so wanted. It was a comfort, but it could be their last, and that shared knowledge tore them both apart.
"L-Loghain?" Maric squeezed his hand. "...Loghain, keep pressing on the wound, I... You need to keep... Loghain." Panic crossed his expression again, all color draining from his face. "Loghain, stay awake. Loghain. Stay awake, say something!"
His eyes closed.
The smell of herbs was the first thing that hit him. After that came the sensation of cool air against his bare chest, and the itch of bandages around his middle.
It was quiet.
Loghain cherished the swell he felt in his heart as he realized that his prince was there, curled up at his side with arms wrapped around him, dried tears down his cheeks and blonde locks spilled everywhere.
"...I'm alive." He took Maric's hand. "Told you so."