Westley lay on the muddy ground, the rain clinking on his armor. He had lost all feeling in his arm and most of his chest. Maybe it was better that way; better not to feel the blood oozing from his wounds as he slowly died.
Closing his eyes, he squeezed them tight and a single tear rolled down his dirty cheek. Maybe if he kept them closed long enough he would open them to find this was all just a bad dream. He would wake up in a warm soft bed covered in fresh blankets and see her standing next to him, her long blonde hair neatly braided and tied with colorful ribbons that match her elegant dress. She would smile at him and caress his cheek with one hand.
"You're a brave man and a bold knight, Westley," she would say. "You have slain the dragon and now my father will allow me to become your wife. You are a hero. My hero."
And then she would lean down and her soft pink lips would meet his in a brief kiss.
Westley opened his eyes wide and looked around but all he saw were trees and rocks. His arm was still without feeling and he was laying not in a bed but in a puddle of mud and grass getting deeper with every raindrop.
He took a breath and winced in pain. Every movement of his body was agony now. It was only a matter of minutes before he lost feeling completely and he would be in darkness without closing his eyes.
Leaving the castle this morning, he felt like a champion. The sky was bright blue with only a few white clouds scudding after him as he galloped away on his horse as if they could not wait to see his victory over the kingdom's nemesis.
Nothing could hold him back. His sword would pierce the dragon's heart and he would ride home to his love victorious and be showered with praises. His name would be on the lips of everyone in the kingdom and perhaps the king would hold a banquet that evening in his honor.
She would be there of course, wearing her most beautiful dress and would place a wreath of flowers on his head and hold up her goblet to toast his victory. That is when her father, the king's most trusted advisor at court, would announce that Westley had shown himself worthy of the lady's hand and the arrangements would begin for their marriage.
A weak smile came over the brave knight's mouth as he pictured his love in her beautiful dress, her eyes glowing at the thought of being his wife. The smile faded as he remembered that she never would be.
There would be no banquet, no wreath of flowers, and no goblets raised in his honor. Instead he would die here, unworthy and alone with the deep gash made by a dragon's claw in his shoulder. The dragon had not even thought him worthy of an honorable soldier's death but instead left him to suffer and slowly die.
It was getting harder to breathe now. Air came in short shallow puffs that sent unbearable pains throughout his body. He was cold now and his limbs that still had feeling began to tremble. Tears flowed freely from his eyes to join the muddy water beneath him. He looked up and saw a bright light. Was it the sun peeking from behind the clouds or the passageway to whatever would come next?
"I love you," he gasped out, crying with agony at the pain he felt from speaking. He longed to say her name one more time, for it to be the last word he ever uttered.
Summoning all his strength, he breathed in as much air as he could and formed the first letter with his tongue. In that moment, his weak and wounded body lost all feeling and though his eyes were open, everything was darkness.
There lay the bold knight Westley who had set out to slay the dragon but was tragically slain himself. His sword lay on the ground still clasped by his bloody hand, his armor was dented and gashed and on his lips, frozen forever in time, was the name of his true love.
