A/N: This chapter is dedicated to reader/reviewer amrawo, whose review sparked the start of this chapter. Cheers!

-C

Gaius looked tired and nervous as they sat around the table in the physician's chambers, Merlin having demanded to know whose tomb it was they were examining.

"Tristan DuBois was the brother of Ygraine, Uther's wife," Gaius explained.

The name stirred something in Krysia's memory, but it faded quickly.

"Arthur's mother?" Merlin asked, confused.

"Ygraine died in childbirth," Gaius continued. "He blamed Uther and came to the gates of Camelot to challenge him."

"Blamed him?" Krysia said, finding that a bit odd. "But…. Well, single combat? He obviously lost."

Gaius nodded and said, "Uther won. But in his dying breath, Tristan cursed Camelot to one day suffer his return. I thought it was the ramblings of a dying man."

Krysia felt a shudder run down her spine, but for once Merlin decided to be the voice of reason. He said, "Men don't just rise from the dead, though, no matter how angry they are."

Gaius opened the book he'd pulled from the shelf and Krysia leaned forward, trying to get a sense of what he was looking for.

"It's my guess we're dealing with a wraith," he said, turning to the page he was looking for, and Krysia shivered again.

"Please tell me that's a joke," she said, but Merlin cocked his head, confused.

"The spirit of a dead man conjured from the grave," Gaius explained, and Merlin looked around at them, horrified.

"So this is the work of a sorcerer?"

Gaius nodded and said, "Powerful magic can harness the grief and rage of a tormented soul and make it live again."

"What can we do?" Krysia whispered.

Gaius snapped the book shut and said, "Nothing. Because it's not alive, no mortal weapon can kill it."

Krysia and Merlin exchanged horrified looks.

"Surely there must be something," Merlin insisted.

"Nothing can stop it until it has achieved what it came for," Gaius said firmly.

Krysia swallowed and leaned forward, placing her hand on the book. She said, "And it came for…?"

"Revenge."

"On Camelot?" Merlin said, and Gaius inclined his head slightly. "What does that mean for Sir Pellinor?"

Gaius sighed, taking the book in his arms to put it back and saying, "I'm afraid it doesn't look good."

/-/

The following day Krysia watched the combat between Tristan DuBois and Sir Pellinor while chewing on the first finger of her left hand, a habit Gaius had diligently broken her of at seven years old. She hadn't realized she was doing it until Leon took her hand from her mouth, glancing at her pointedly, holding her hand in his to keep her from putting it right back.

She was too nervous to be embarrassed or ashamed at being caught. She could feel her breakfast turning in her stomach, and that was the little Gaius had made her eat.

"Do you think maybe you were wrong?" she asked Gaius.

Sir Pellinor seemed to be winning. But then, so had Owain.

"I hope so," Gaius said softly, leaning forward in his seat, although he tried to look casual.

The sword Sir Pellinor was using went straight through Tristan, but the Black Knight did not fall, did not even stumble. Krysia squeezed Leon's hand, but if he noticed through his glove he made no sign of it.

Krysia heard Gwen say to Morgana, "The sword went in, I'm sure of it."

"I saw, too," Morgana said back, and Krysia felt woozy.

It did not take long after this shocking moment for Tristan to get the better of Sir Pellinor, killing him. Moments after he fell, Tristan turned to the crowd. Although Uther tried to stop him, this time Arthur threw down his gauntlet, preempting the Black Knight, and the whole world seemed to spin.

"No," Krysia whispered, and this time Leon squeezed her hand, but she hardly noticed.

"I, Arthur Pendragon, challenge you," Arthur said, before his father could do anything to object.

"So be it," Tristan answered.

"Single combat. Noon. Tomorrow."

In that moment, Krysia would have sworn her heart stopped beating.

When she made to stand, she lost her balance almost immediately, and Leon stood quickly, steadying her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his eyes full of concern as she took deep, deliberate breaths through her nose.

"I am afraid I slept little last night," she said, not lying, smiling weakly at him. "I am a bit faint, but I will be fine. Really, Sir Leon, I have duties to perform."

"If you are not well," he began, frowning, but Merlin, mercifully, cut in.

"I'll escort her to the physician's chambers," Merlin said, taking Krysia's arm. "We'll get her feeling well enough to work in no time."

Leon seemed reluctant to give up escorting her so easily, but Arthur called for him, and after only a moment's hesitation he said a brief word of parting and hurried away.

"Are you alright?" Gaius asked her.

"No," Krysia said softly. "No, you know perfectly well that I'm not."

They hurried back to the physician's chambers as quickly and gracefully as they could with Merlin supporting her weight, and he helped her sit down before the all took a deep breath and Gaius prepared her a quick restorative.

"Here," he said, and she quickly drank it, ignoring the acrid taste on the back of her tongue. Taste hardly mattered at the moment.

"You were right," Merlin said softly.

"Of course he was," Krysia said, slamming the empty vial onto the table, ignoring Gaius's wince at her treatment of the fragile glass. "Ugh. He's always right when something's wrong."

"If Arthur fights that thing, he'll die."

"He is Camelot's strongest warrior," Gaius said, lacking conviction. "If anyone can defeat it, he can."

Merlin shook his head and said, "You said yourself, no mortal weapon can kill it. Which means we have to find a way to defeat the wraith ourselves."

"How?" Krysia spat bitterly before burying her face in her hands, feeling the restorative kicking in, although she was still enormously dizzy.

"If no mortal sword will kill it...then I will."

He dashed into their room and Krysia groaned into her hands. He was like an over-positive little woodland creature, or a child still believing in the impossibly good endings of fairy stories. Sometimes, bad things happened and they just happened. And that was that.

Merlin reentered and she looked up to see him holding the magic book, saying, "With mortal magic."

Krysia groaned again. That was his response to absolutely everything.

"Merlin, it's too dangerous," Gaius said firmly.

Unfortunately, Krysia realized she could only agree with Merlin on this, and that made her want to smack him all the more.

"Merlin's right," she said, groaning into her hands again. "It's the only thing to be done."

/-/

Krysia knew she should have done something to help Merlin, but as there was only the one book and he got testy when she tried to turn the pages, she found herself wandering out to a vantage point over the training grounds, where Tristan DuBois could be seen standing perfectly still in the moonlight. She could see the moon shining off his helmet, and she wondered what could have made him so furious, something more than the death of his sister. To have so much pain and grief that he could be raised as this, there had to be more that Gaius had not said.

"Are you feeling better?" a soft voice asked in the darkness.

She did not turn.

"Hello, Leon," she whispered back. "I am. But I still cannot sleep."

He stood beside her, and she heard him take off his glove, brushing a bit of hair off her shoulder. She should have put it up, just in case she saw Uther, but she'd been too preoccupied to worry much about her hair. Leon's fingertips were warm where then lingered on the cool skin of her neck.

"Arthur will defeat him," he whispered. "I have never seen a warrior more skill than Arthur."

She smiled a weak smile and said, "I beat Arthur."

"As a child," he said, amused. "I doubt you could beat him now."

Krysia felt her neck stiffen with indignation, but she said nothing. Leon must have noticed the way she bristled, though, because a low chuckle rumbled from his voice and he leaned forward to look out the window, following her gaze.

"He is odd, isn't he?" Leon said darkly. "Does he sleep?"

"Not that I've seen," she said hoarsely, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes. Quickly, she blinked them away. There was no need to worry Leon any more than she had. "He must, though, mustn't he?"

Leon hummed his agreement, but he didn't seem any surer of himself than she felt. He traced his fingers down the tendons of her neck, but seemed to realize what he was doing and pulled his hand away abruptly as she turned to look at him.

"Apologies," he muttered. "I…."

She shrugged, turning back to the window, frowning as she thought of Merlin, working all alone on finding the right spell.

"I think I'll try to sleep," she said softly, lying easily. "No doubt you have much more to patrol before you sleep."

He hesitated.

"Yes. Would you like me to walk you back?"

Krysia shook her head, staring at Tristain DuBois still.

"I know the way and I feel fine. You go."

As the sound of his footsteps faded to silence she saw a figure she would recognize anywhere as Merlin by the gate marched right up to Tristain, and for a brief, glorious moment she saw Tristan ablaze. Krysia leaned forward, feeling her breath catch in her chest as she waited.

The flame went out, and Merlin fled, right below where she was, and she knew he was headed right toward her. Had he seen her watching, or had he guessed where she would be?

He stormed right past her, though, and she picked up her skirts to follow him.

"Well?" she asked. "How was it?"

"I can't," he said darkly. "I can't. I used the only possible thing and it didn't even faze him."

She felt sick again, but she followed him as he burst into Arthur's quarters. Arthur looked up at them and raised an eyebrow.

"Merlin, you know that conversation we had about knocking…"

"You have to pull out," Merlin said, not listening.

"And why is that?"

"Because if you don't," Krysia said softly, "if you don't, you'll die."

Arthur, always more interested in his pride than anything else, said, "Why does everybody think that?"

"Because they're right!" Merlin said urgently. "Just pull out. You're the Crown Prince. No one wants to see you die over some stupid challenge."

"I am not a coward," Arthur insisted.

"Nobody doubts that," Krysia said, taking a step toward him. "Nobody knows it better than I." She took another step forward and said softly, so soft that only Arthur could hear, "Eels."

His eyes flashed with recognition, recalling how as a child he had been terrified of eels. Morgana had fought with Krysia over something especially ridiculous as children often do, and she tossed Krysia's best shoes into the lake, a lake known to have a great number of eels. Krysia couldn't swim and she sat at the edge of the water and cried, certain she'd lost the shoes forever, but Arthur hadn't been able to stand to see her cry, so he braved the eels to retrieve her shoes, and he dried and cleaned them himself before making Morgana apologize.

Krysia had called him many things when angry or upset with him, but from that day on she'd never called him a coward.

"That's what's required of me," he said softly, although his eyes were no longer as certain as they'd been.

"But you are more than that," Merlin said, not prepared to give up. "You are not merely a warrior. You're a prince, a future king! You've proved your courage, but you must prove your wisdom!"

"I'm not backing down," Arthur said stubbornly.

Krysia shook her head, feeling tears.

"Arthur please, I've been watching this knight. He doesn't move, he doesn't sleep, he barely speaks. He doesn't need medical attention and he won't acknowledge food that's brought to him. You have to agree that something is wrong."

"No one is unbeatable."

She shook her head, taking a small, stumbling step back. Merlin caught her arm, steadying her. Arthur wasn't even listening. How could he not see?

"If you fight him," Merlin repeated, "you will die."

"I'm not listening to this," Arthur said, irritated now.

"He's only trying to warn you, Arthur," she said, feeling her chest tighten.

"And I'm trying to warn you! Now get out!"

/-/

It was Krysia's turn for reckless decisions, she thought wryly as they flipped through records in the hall of records, a single candle between them as they searched several tomes.

Geoffrey entered, however, and frowned at the pair of them, and she prayed their lies would be more convincing than usual.

"How did you get in here?" he demanded.

As Krysia didn't have a key to this room, it was a legitimate question.

"The door was open," Merlin lied easily. Too easily. They did this too often.

"No, I locked it," Geoffrey said slowly.

"Well, someone else must have opened it, then," Merlin said, still reading.

Geoffrey frowned and said, "And you thought you'd come in and help yourselves?"

Krysia and Merlin exchanged a glance and he said, "We were looking for a book. For Gaius. He thinks the Black Knight is a wraith."

Geoffrey's whole countenance changed and he said softly, "Then Arthur is in grave peril."

"Maybe you can help us," Krysia said, smiling her most naive, charming smile that she saved for special occasions when she needed to supplicate for things. It was usually reserved for Uther, but this was a critical moment. "We need to find reference to something that can kill something that's already dead."

"Well, I've read of such things in the ancient chronicles."

"Really?" Merlin said, surprised and eager. "What did they say?"

"Well, several fables speak of ancient swords."

Geoffrey sounded skeptical, but they were willing to grasp at whatever straws seemed even remotely possible at this point.

"That can kill the dead?"

"The swords the fables speak of could destroy anything, alive or dead."

"Can you show us one of these fables?" Merlin said urgently.

"Well, let me think. Yes. Mmm…"

Geoffrey searched a shelf, tracing his thumb across the different bindings, and Krysia held her breath.

"It's really rather urgent," Krysia said softly, trying not to appear too anxious. "We're sort of in a hurry."

"Yes, you young people always are," he said tiredly, taking the book and flipping through it thoughtfully. "This is the Chronicle of Beltain," he said. "Now then…. Ah, here we are. 'Sir Marhaus looked upon the great sword, begotten in the dragon's breath, and found it passing good.'"

"What did you say?" Merlin said, as startled as Krysia felt.

"'Sir Marhaus…"

"No," Merlin said. "No, no. No, no. Not about him. The dragon."

"'The sword begotten in the dragon's breath….'"

Krysia and Merlin exchanged excited glances and were out the door before Geoffrey had finished reading the sentence over.

Clearly they'd been spending too much time together, because they rushed to Morgana's chambers together without either saying a word about where to go. Mercifully, Gwen answered the door, puzzled to see them there.

"Merlin," she said. "Krysia. What are you doing here?"

Krysia shifted on her feet and said, "We need to ask something of you."

"Yes?"

"I'm not sure how to ask it," Merlin said, shifting.

"Ask, Merlin," Gwen said. "You know I'd grant you anything." Krysia blinked, startled, and Gwen seemed to realized what she'd just said. "I mean, not anything. Obviously not anything. What is it you want?"

Krysia licked her lips and then took a deep breath. She said, "We need to ask you for a sword. The strongest, best sword your father's ever made."

Gwen frowned and said, "What for?"

"To save Arthur," Merlin said, so firm, so full of conviction, Krysia didn't doubt for a moment that Gwen would help them.

/-/

Inside Gwen's house in the town, Krysia watched Gwen pull a sword out from under her father's bed, a gleaming, beautiful thing that Krysia itched to hold.

"My father's been saving this," Gwen whispered. "He's always said it was the best sword he's ever made."

"It's beautiful," Krysia said, leaning over it, admiring Tom's skill. "Perfection."

"He'll kill me if he finds I've taken it."

Merlin placed a hand on Gwen's shoulder as she handed the sword to Krysia, who cradled it like it was a small, helpless child, a precious bundle. It felt more important, to her.

"He'll understand," he said gently. "You did it for Arthur."

Gwen gave Merlin a sad, wry smile and said, "I knew you were proud of him, really."

Krysia laughed, which felt surprisingly good after a day full of anxiety and fear.

/-/

Her heart pounded as they stood in the cave, waiting for the dragon. He approached as expected.

"Merlin!" he said, looking at the sword Krysia had in her hands.

"Do you know why we're here?" Merlin said.

"It may surprise you, Merlin, but my knowledge of your lives is not universal."

Krysia's stomach was still turning as she gripped the sword.

"We're here because if we can't get him a weapon that can kill the dead," Krysia said, "Arthur is going to die in a matter of hours."

"So what do you come to ask of me?" the dragon asked, seemingly unconcerned.

Merlin floated the sword out of Krysia's hands and up in front of the dragon, who eyed it but did nothing.

"Will you burnish it to save Arthur?" Merlin asked.

"The dead do not return without reason. Who has he come for?"

"Uther."

The dragon quirked where a mammal would have an eyebrow and said, "Then let him take his vengeance and the wraith will die without my aid."

"But it's Arthur who's going to fight him," Merlin argued. "You have to save him."

"That is your destiny, young warlock, not mine."

"It's not mine either," Krysia said coolly, "but if we do nothing, you and I, then Arthur dies and Merlin and I have no destiny."

The dragon peered at her, considering their proposal.

"A weapon forged with my assistance will have great power," he said softly.

"We know," Merlin said.

"You do not know," the dragon said sternly. "You can only guess. You have not seen what I have seen. If you had, perhaps you would not ask this of me."

"What do you mean?"

"In the wrong hands, this sword could do great evil. It must be weilded by Arthur, and him alone."

"We understand," Merlin said.

"You must do more than understand," the dragon said urgently. "You must promise."

"We do," Krysia said softly. "We promise."

With her word, the dragon then breathed fire, burnishing the sword, which then floated down to Krysia's arms again, surprisingly cool to the touch.

"Heed my words," the dragon said before either could thank him. "The sword was forged for Arthur, and him alone."

A/N: Review Prompt: What do you think Gwaine is doing right now?

-C