A/N: OK…so Galahad doesn't get the concept of a short drabble very well. One too many chocolate pudding cups, I guess.

Galahad flopped over on his bed and groaned. He wished he could stop feeling so ill, that somehow the killing, the bloodshed, would stop bothering him. Though, he had to admit, today's battle had been bloodier, harder fought, than any in recent memory. He wondered if any of the other Knights were ill. They'd all retreated from the stable and each other fairly quickly. Even Gawain had not waited, not made sure he was okay before heading off to somewhere.

He looked at the pitcher and bowl on the table. There would be clean, cold water waiting for washing. Perhaps if he washed some of this grime away he would feel better. Rising, he made his way to the table and poured a generous amount of water into the bowl. He dropped in a thin cloth, watching as it absorbed the liquid and sank. As he watched, he smiled slightly and thought about the similarities of sinking cloths and sinking Knights. The latter image made him laugh slightly.

Those had been better days. There had been just as many battles, but more Knights… Galahad shook his head gently, so as to avoid making it hurt any worse. He'd also enjoyed not being the smallest Knight at the fort. That distinction had belonged to Mouse, as he'd been aptly nicknamed. That hadn't been his real name, but it had been the only name that Bryce responded to. Mouse. Galahad chuckled slightly. It had been Mouse who'd warned him of the older Knight's penchant for tossing the smaller Knights into ponds, lakes or whatever body of water was closest. And not for any reason, just because…

Will you float?

Galahad started as the answer came to his ears. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"And if you didn't float that time…" He paused, waiting.

Always the next pond.

A broad smile lit up the boyish features. Mouse and he had formed a bond quickly. Really, it had been more of a warning system since they were the two smallest Knights and, therefore, the ones who were consistently tested for floatability. Though, Galahad had to admit, Mouse had it considerably rougher since he had been smaller than Galahad. It had made him easier to toss…and easier to fit into small, cramped spaces.

The smile faded from Galahad's face as he recalled how many times Mouse had been sent down this hole or that one, this tiny opening or that one searching for Woad traps. Or, Galahad thought ruefully, when the Woads had somehow gained access to the fort in a considerable number. The opening Mouse had found in the Wall…it hadn't seemed large enough for one of Bors' children, much less a man. But, true to form, Mouse had squeezed himself through and back, proving to Arthur, the Knights and various assembled Roman commanders that it was, indeed, possible.

Not easy.

Galahad shook his head. No, it hadn't been an easy squeeze; one of the Roman commanders had tried to rule it out as a key access point because, well, it would simply take too long to squeeze any significant amount of Woads through such a small opening and they would all have to be Mouse-sized, which just wasn't feasible. Until Mouse mentioned quietly that all you really needed to squeeze through was one Woad…

To open the gate.

Again, Galahad smiled as he recalled the silence and then panic that followed Mouse's observation. Immediately, Mouse had been dispatched, accompanied by Dagonet and Bors to go up and down the Wall, searching for holes that had been either chiseled into the stones or tunneled underneath the Wall itself.

Galahad looked upward, trying to fight the sadness that suddenly overwhelmed him. It had been one of those investigations that had gone terribly wrong. Woad scouts must have been watching and realized what Mouse was doing. Archers had been waiting at one of the access points and when Mouse's head and shoulders popped outside the Wall… Bors told the others later (and after many, many tankards) that he heard Mouse yell once and then nuffing, in Bors speak. Bors and Dagonet had grabbed his boots and pulled him back through the hole quickly…

Archers were accurate.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Is that supposed to make it better? It was stupid and worthless and should never have happened." Galahad reached into the bowl and twisted the cloth in ever tighter spirals.

It did.

Galahad scowled at his surroundings. "I know it did, Mouse. We all know. It just wasn't fair – to us or to you." Mouse's death had been a hard blow to all the Knights. He'd been so likable; Gawain liked to say that Mouse's laugh was twice the size of his body. After his death, the Knights had also ceased testing fellow Knight's floatability.

I'm free.

Galahad's head sank. "I know." His voice was quiet. "Maybe that was why it wasn't fair – you're free and the rest of us are still bound here to this…duty or whatever it is. It just wasn't, isn't, fair…"

He could imagine Mouse shrugging at him. Fair and unfair had not been things that Mouse, or many of the older Knights, had dwelt on. This was their life and whether it was fair or not never seemed to bother them. It was what it was – you lived each day, survived each battle until your time here was over one way or another.

Accept it.

"Accept it. You sound a lot like Gawain, you know." Galahad smiled. Wringing the cloth out for a final time, Galahad looked at the dirty water. "I think, Mouse, I think that I need a drink."

Will you float?

Galahad answered softly. "I don't know, Mouse…I don't know anymore." Turning, he began heading to the tavern, only to stop in the doorway at the sound of laughter behind him. Mouse wouldn't…couldn't…there was no way the rest of the Knights were going to start testing his floatability again, was there…? Galahad's head hit the door frame as he sighed and resigned himself to carrying an extra set of dry clothes once again.