A/N: A Gawain/Galahad centered companion piece to "Separation of Swords" especially for Shauna:)

This takes place after the interrogation of Circinn in the main hall, during which Galahad had kept watch over Lancelot. I could have
included this in part 8 of "Separation of Swords" but it would have broken up two parts which I felt belong together :)


Arthur opened the door to Lancelot's room and walked in quietly, Gawain on his heels.

Galahad sat on a chair next to Lancelot's bed, his leg resting on a second chair. Gawain immediately noticed how pale the young knight looked, as pale as the dark knight sleeping in the bed. The young knight looked up when he heard the two men entering.

"How is he?" Arthur asked softly.

"Sleeping peacefully," Galahad replied as he struggled with his leg to stand up.

Gawain quickly moved forwards and slid Galahad's arm around his shoulders, pulling him up to his feet. He could feel how Galahad swayed next to him, grabbing hold of Gawain's tunic tightly to keep himself from falling.

"Thank you for staying with him," Arthur said gratefully. "Get some rest. You look like you need it badly as well."

"Come on," Gawain said, helping Galahad turn around towards the door.

Galahad groaned in pain as he took a first step, putting weight on his injured leg. He leaned heavily on Gawain, who wrapped an arm around Galahad's waist.

By the time they had crossed the short distance to the door, Galahad's brow was covered with tiny droplets of sweat, his pallor sickly white. Gawain could feel how his friend was leaning on him heavier with each step he took.

Halfway between Lancelot's and Galahad's room, Galahad suddenly grabbed hold of Gawain with his free hand as well. He closed his eyes, bowing his head, as he swallowed heavily.

Gawain immediately halted their progress. "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

Galahad opened his eyes, but kept his head down. "Everything went black for a second there…Gods, I need to sit down, or I'll throw up all over you!" he said.

The blond Sarmatian recognized the urgency in Galahad's voice, and gently pried his hand away from where it had a tight grip on his tunic. Slowly he helped the young knight sit down against the stone wall in the hallway.

Galahad immediately pressed his head against the cold stones, while he breathed in slowly and deeply.

Gawain watched with concern for awhile before he spoke up. "Should I get Flavius?"

Galahad shook his head. "No, I'll be alright once I can lie down in bed."

"Do you want to get moving again already?" Gawain asked tentatively.

"Aye. Help me up," Galahad answered.

Placing his arms around Galahad's torso, Gawain pulled the young Sarmatian to his feet. He waited a moment while Galahad steadied himself before he let go to drape Galahad's arm over his shoulders once more. "Ready?"

Galahad nodded while he clenched his jaws.

Even slower than before they moved forwards. When they reached Galahad's room, Galahad grabbed hold of the doorframe while Gawain opened the door.

Galahad felt like all strength was seeping out of him even faster, the closer they came to his bed. Finally, Gawain gently lowered him down to sit on the bed. He let himself fall backwards, gritting his teeth as the impact on the soft bedding was enough to send white hot bolts of pain through his leg. He closed his eyes to banish the pain from his mind and body. He felt how Gawain carefully lifted both his legs. Keeping his eyes closed, he placed his hands on the bed and pushed himself farther up on it. His head sank gratefully in his pillow as Gawain placed his legs on the bed.

"Galahad? Are you still with me?" Gawain asked quietly, not wanting to awaken the young man had he fallen asleep.

"Aye," came Galahad's short answer. He brought his hands up to his face to wipe away the sweat that was pouring down his temples now. His brown curls were matted to his forehead.

"I have to change the bandages. Just lie still while I get them." Gawain briefly placed a reassuring hand on Galahad's shoulder before he left the room.

When Gawain returned, he immediately noticed that Galahad had fallen asleep this time, evidently by the slow even motions of his rising and falling chest. The young Sarmatian looked barely older than the first time Gawain had met him, nearly eight years before.

Gawain felt regret at having to wake Galahad again, but at the same time he knew that the wound needed to be cleaned and freshly bandaged to keep it from becoming infected. He placed a hand on Galahad's arm and gently shook it. "Galahad?"

Groggily the blue-grey eyes opened, looking blankly at Gawain for a second before Galahad's brain caught up with his awakened state. He sighed deeply, while his eyes fluttered closed again.

"No, no, Galahad, stay wake," Gawain chuckled softly, as he shook Galahad's arm again. Galahad mumbled something incoherently, but Gawain could imagine vividly what he had said.

"Can you pull up your leg a bit?" the blond knight asked as he placed his hand underneath Galahad's knee, ready to support him as Galahad complied.

Galahad's eyes snapped open as the pain in his leg intensified ten-fold by the movement.

Gawain continued to remove the blood red stained bandage around Galahad's thigh. He could feel how the cloth stuck to the wound at some places.

Galahad felt the pain stabbing like daggers as Gawain pulled the bandage free. He clenched his hands into fists as his breath hitched in his throat. Red and orange spots were dancing before his eyes.

Gawain briefly looked up at Galahad as he heard how the other man held his breath. He wasn't surprised to see that the eyes looking at him were darkened, dulled with agony. "I thought you were going to die right before my eyes, when we found you and Lancelot," Gawain confessed softly while he continued cleaning the wound with water as not to prolong the torment for his best friend.

Galahad swallowed and exhaled loudly. "So did I." He shuddered as he relived the memory of what had occurred. At first he hadn't felt how the sword had nearly cut his thigh in two. His leg had simply refused to bear his weight any longer. Only when he had fallen to the ground, the grip on his sword loosening, had he become aware of the pain and the blood flowing freely from his leg. He had felt lightheaded, his mind sluggish. He had seen how the Woad he had been fighting had raised his sword. He had known that he had to do something to block the blow, but he just couldn't get his limbs to subject to his mind's wishes. The shadow of the broadsword above his head had felt like a foreshadowing of the darkness that was about to come. His gaze had traveled to where he knew Lancelot was fighting. He had felt relieved to see that his brother-in-arms was still up and fighting. He had felt even more relief when he saw the familiar horses galloping fast towards them, knowing that Lancelot would be safe, even though he had thought it would be too late for him. He had heard a swooshing sound and he had been so certain that it was the sound of the Woad's sword being brought down. He had been surprised when he felt no pain when the sound stopped, followed by a dull thud as though a weapon had hit flesh. Only when he had felt Gawain's hand on his shoulder and heard his voice had he know that he was still alive, while the Woad was not. It hadn't been until much later that he had realized that Tristan's arrow had killed his opponent.

"Galahad? Galahad!" Gawain bent over Galahad concerned when the young knight had remained unresponsive to his calling out his name. He only knew that Galahad hadn't lost consciousness or gone back to sleep because Galahad's eyes were still open, although he seemed to be on a different plane, deeply engrossed in his thoughts.

Galahad shook his head as he saw Gawain's face appear in front of him, the blue eyes fixating him. "Sorry. I'm fine. Just lost in thought."

Gawain nodded understandingly, before he moved back down on the bed to continue bandaging Galahad's leg.

"I wasn't scared."

Gawain looked up to see the surprised look on Galahad's face. "Scared of what?"

"Not scared," the young Sarmatian corrected. "Of dying. I wasn't scared to die." He winced in pain as Gawain wound the bandages around his thigh. "I always thought I would be terrified when that final moment would arrive. But I wasn't. I really thought I was going to die when I saw you and Arthur and the other riding hard toward us. I knew you would be too late to safe me though. But it was alright. I knew you would be able to get to Lancelot before he would be killed, and I knew you would all know the truth about the killing of the Romanuses. And beyond that, all was alright." He paused briefly. "I was more terrified when I killed someone for the first time."

"The pain and the blood loss kept you from feeling afraid," Gawain replied, nodding again in understanding. "But I'm very glad that we got to you in time and you didn't die even though it would have been 'alright' with you!" he grinned at Galahad. "I've finished. You can put your leg down."

Galahad felt all blood draining from his face, as Gawain gently laid his leg flat down on the bed. Pain crawled through his veins, making it impossible to breathe.

"Galahad!"

Gawain's voice pried itself a way into his clouded mind as the pain started to dissipate little by little once more. "Sweet Goddess!" he whispered as he forced air into his lungs.

"Are you alright?" Gawain asked equally softly, concern thick in his voice.

"Aye," Galahad breathed out. "That hurt!"

"I can imagine," Gawain chuckled. "Go to sleep. The pain won't be so bad when you're asleep."

"I will," Galahad managed to say before a yawn overtook him. His eyes slid closed slowly, while his head lolled slightly to the side.

"Sleep well, my friend," Gawain said quietly before he went out the door to join his fellow knights in celebration of the safe return of both Galahad and Lancelot.