A long battle, an endless war, a blur of time... Arthur found himself in a field of dandelions, laying down after an excruciating day. He had survived, and with your presence nearby, that seemed enough.

His helmet lay discarded, an indent in the sea of yellow flowers. The blood on his fingers did not impede - it only made Arthur feel more alive.

The knight's weathered hands carefully weaved flower stems together, slowly forming a wreath that was placed atop your head upon its completion.

"I'll weave you a thousand more, you need only ask." Arthur breathed out, his eyes appraising the handiwork he had finished. The ring of dandelions on your head was akin to a halo, vibrant and fresh.