Old habits die hard, and Galahad finds it strange now to stand next to Woads without having to kill them. He finds it odd that Arthur is a king and married to a Woad. And he finds it odd that he's still on, in Gawain's words, "This wretched island." And that all of his brothers but Gawain, Bors, and Arthur are gone.
The knights now have any number of Woad scouts, but none of them can match Tristan. Tristan's silence made him ideal for the position, and without him, it is strange to go on missions. Everyone misses the scout's presence, merely for the fact that you knew someone was watching out for you. He may have been impersonal as all get out, but he was their brother, and they missed him.
Dagonet was also silent, but in a different way. He was a hardened warrior, but he could love. The boy, Lucan, is known as Dagonet's. Dagonet, who had no son to carry on his name now has one. Dagonet would have given his life for his brothers, and he wouldn't have chosen to die any other way. The way he said; 'Here, now,' when they went to engage the Saxons had struck at Galahad, but he'd never known why. Now he did. It seemed that Dagonet knew he would die.
Lancelot. Other than Bors, the loudest among them. Always ready with a sarcastic remark, he and Arthur had been brothers, in the same sense that Gawain and Galahad himself were, and like Bors and Dagonet. Lancelot had given Bors no amount of grief about some of Bors children being his, but Galahad alone knew the truth. Vanora had told him. Her children were no one but Bors's, and Lancelot had only ever said it to drive Bors mad.
None of them know why they've stayed. Perhaps they feel a duty to Arthur, who gave them their freedom. Perhaps it is because they do not know what they will find back in Sarmatia. But in the end, they don't want to leave. This land is where their brothers are, the land they have watered with their blood and the blood of its native people. As Guinevere said; "I belong to this land." Perhaps that is the case with them now.
Since they decided to stay, Galahad's complaints have moved from the land and climate to merely normal things. It seems that the land is growing on them. Bors likes the rain, for it reminds him of scouting trips he would once have liked to forget. Now, he holds the memories close, even though they cause him pain.
It is foolish, but anytime one of them sees an apple, they are reminded of Tristan. Anytime they see Lucan, they miss Dagonet. Anytime they see someone playing dice, they think of Lancelot. There are a hundred reminders of all their fallen comrades. There were once many of them, and now there are few. At the end, it was those most loyal to Arthur who fell. Only Gawain, one of those few, lived on.
It is hard for Bors, without his brother, and Arthur without his. Galahad and Gawain realize how lucky the two of them are, to still be living. Bors has remarked that it is lucky that Gawain isn't gone, for only he can reign in Galahad's complaints. He never says how jealous he is, that Dagonet isn't there with his gentle smile and fierce looks.
But they go on. They'll fight Saxons when needed, they'll support Arthur's reign, and they'll defend the people of Briton. Because this is their land now; they belong to it, just as sure as their brothers lie in its soil.
A.N. My first King Arthur fanfic! Review and tell me what you think, but just constructive criticism, no flames please.