Author: Miluielwen
Genre: angst, drama
Characters: Arthur, Lancelot
Summary: After the battle of Badon Hill, Arthur carries Lancelot back to the Wall.
Disclaimer: Still don't own.
Dedication: As ever, Jess, simply for being her awesome self and for beta-ing this piece of Armageddon. Also to all of my KA loving friends, even the ones who aren't particulary fond of dear Lance. ;)

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Knights, brothers in arms…

Walking back slowly towards Hadrian's Wall, Roman commander Arthur Castus carried his brother in his arms.

The irony of the situation seemed to be infinite.

What I do remember… home…

For years, Arthur had cherished the thought of visiting the Empire's capital, perhaps even living there; because there, he would finally see true civilisation, and there, he would at last be reunited with Pelagius.

He would be home.

Yet how does one define home? Had Rome ever truly been his?

Rome is dead.

His dream had been shattered that day. With Pelagius gone, and the great Empire he once thought he served crumbling, what was left for him in the far away country?

Oceans of grass from horizon to horizon, further than you can ride.

Part of him yearned to see the green plains his knights had always talked of. Part of him yearned to know if it was truly beautiful like he had always heard, or if it had merely been the idolised fantasy of homesick young men.

Like his vision of Rome had been.

I want peace, Lancelot.

Lancelot once told him that it wasn't Rome they were fighting for, nor the island they were bound to.

How could he have? How could he care for the peace of a country not his own, but one that had claimed the lives of his people nonetheless?

Arthur had never blamed Lancelot for not caring, but neither would he ever forget the moment when Lancelot rode up Badon Hill, and the knowing smile they had exchanged.

They fought for peace. They fought for freedom.

I chose life! And freedom, for myself and the men!

He had always wanted freedom for his knights; none in the world were more deserving of it than them. Even when he wronged them, putting their lives in danger while they were supposed to be free, they still followed him.

Had Lancelot known how his heart ached when they rode out of the camp and into the wild?

Had Lancelot known how his heart broke when Dagonet fell, sacrificing himself to ensure their survival?

You who know me best of all.

They had been the best of friends. It hadn't been easy in the beginning, Lancelot's pride and his own stubbornness clashing, but they had grown to know each other like no other.

They had been brothers. He had never cared much for the world, so long as Lancelot was by his side.

Now it seemed his world was shattered.

For our friendship's sake, I beg you!

He never had the chance to beg, but he would have.

The brave and selfless Arthur would have begged like a child, selfishly, for his friend to stay.

To live.

He never had the chance.

With you by my side, we can do so again.

But without his brother there, what was he to do?

Does it all count for nothing?

If he couldn't even get his men home, how was he to rule a country?

Burn me. Burn me, and cast my ashes to a strong east wind.

How does one react to such a request, and how does one deny it?

He hadn't been able to. Lancelot had known he would not have been able to.

And so he clung to his second in command's still body, knowing it would soon no longer be there to hold on to.

Fallen knights return as great horses.

Tears coursing down weathered cheeks unheeded, the soon to be king hoped, wished, prayed that the old legend would be true.

That somewhere, on the grassy fields of Sarmatia, a raven black foal would stand on wobbly legs, free from his first breath.

We will go home across the mountains.

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A/N: So, I'm thinking of maybe making this into a sort of series where the knights remember their fallen brothers… but it's all up to you. Please read & review!