He could see the figure fall from across the field, an anguished cry floating eerily across the new found silence. Everything seemed to slow as he felt his blood run cold, eyes widening in stricken horror, harsh breath loud in his ears.

His foot jerked forward awkwardly of its own accord, sliding slightly on the blood-drenched grass and making way for his other one to follow suit. He didn't even realise he was running towards where his eyes were fixed on the stumbling figure until he felt a blade slice cruelly into his arm. The metal biting carelessly into muscle, freeing the blood that lay searing there, arm dropping the shield it once held, legs still pounding furiously through the battle.

He did not stop to fight Saxons out of the way, to duck under their oncoming blows or to think of any way to save the figure; he was using pure emotion and instinct to lead him. Stumbling sideways, after a hefty knock from the hilt of a Saxon axe, he fell to the ground. He grasped for purchase on the blood-sodden ground, not even bothering to look at the bloodthirsty Saxon as he pushed himself up from the ground and forced himself onwards through the mass.

Everything was a blur to him, a faint rumble of noise like an oncoming storm, only the figure and their attacker was clear to him; never leaving his eyesight. He was so close, running on pure impulse, raw need to protect the figure. His now-darkened eyes flickered a tiny stretch to the right to see the attacker raising their sword high above their head, over the figure lying helplessly on the ground; their blood intermixing with the mud. He didn't hear the scream ripped from his throat, but felt the burning sensation course through his chest, bursting through the last line of fighting to where the figure lay. Dropping to his knees, he skidded across the mud, using his previous momentum to hastily slide to the figure's side, leaning over them on all fours.

"Galahad…" Croaked his tawny-haired figure, breath wheezing from his bloodied mouth.

The knight smiled down at his comrade, friend, shield brother, even as he felt the broadsword carve a fatal wound into his back. Pain burst forth like a fiery chasm as his blood poured freely from the wound, his breath escaping him as his body shuddered above the other knight. And yet he still smiled.

"Gawain…." He replied in a whisper, his eyes bright and green like the forest on a summer's day.

Gawain opened his mouth to say something, but only his rasping breath issued forth as he stared up at his Galahad with a surge of raw emotion and euphoria.

"We shall enter the afterlife together, my Gawain." Wheezed the dark-haired knight, the light in his eyes burning brightly as a droplet of blood trickled tellingly from his mouth to his chin. "We shall go home together." He gasped, his voice laughing slightly at the sense of elation he felt.

Gawain looked up at his knight with a small smile; his energy failing him as his life's blood poured out of his side. He was beautiful to him. Clear green eyes, dark brown curls that bounced as he laughed, a face of rugged yet boyish charm, and a smile….that smile that could warm his very soul.

"We will go home together." Galahad repeated, his body failing him as he gradually fell forward onto his lover, reaching up to press his bloodied lips to that of his lover's in one last worldly embrace. "Together."

A/N: I hope you liked it, I could picture it so vividly in my head - I just hope I've done it justice.
Thanks for reading.
Rach xx