Birdsong was not unwelcome when Gwaine woke in another forest. He didn't bother tracking the names of them, not when there were so many and they all looked the same. It had been weeks since the last dream of the mystery woman, and Gwaine found that his sleep was lighter, his mornings rougher without her. Every night, he would lay down and ask her to come back, like a prayer, and every morning he would curse the gods for abandoning him.

He found a nearby stream and splashed cool water on his neck, and he considered his options. He had been moving, slowly, toward Camelot for reasons he didn't understand, but if the dreams had abandoned him, was it even worth going to Camelot? And how could he even be sure that, should such a woman exist, that she would be there?

But there was nowhere else to go, at least not yet, so he decided to keep moving west and north.

Gwaine travelled to a village where he broke his fast. He contemplated staying to try to romance a pretty barmaid while he was there. She was fair, pretty, but when he recalled the face of the woman from his dream, this barmaid was clearly a girl, whereas the woman in the dream was very much a woman. Why have a girl when there were women in the world?

It was never a thought he'd had before, but it felt so true.

He finished his meal, paid with a bit of light labor, and left to go due north over the hills, where he was assured there would be another village where he could pause to rest, perhaps even for the night.

/-/

Leon woke with a groan. Ever since the Gaius began to treat Leon, the dreams had ceased. Not to say that he didn't occasionally daydream of Krysia, but she no longer visited him at night. While he was free of the more troubling concerns he had risen to Gaius, he was also devoid of the pleasure he'd had from the dreams in the first place. He didn't seem to sleep as well without them, and he had a feeling he would stare at her far longer than he used to, as if his mind was starved of her image.

He had a rare morning free, thanks to a small influx of second and third sons who were recently knighted. Leon considered going to have a workout, but he'd been searching for something else in his free time, and he thought he'd better keep looking.

Ever since he'd overheard Uther tell Arthur that Krysia reminded him of someone he used to know, Leon felt that it might be a clue to Krysia's past. If she could have something to connect to, a history that she had been robbed of, he hoped it might lift her spirits.

Leon went to the library and began reading through the historical records again, from around the time Krysia was found. It was after the Great Purge, so the records were not sealed, but there were a great number of tragedies to sift through. He thought of asking Geoffrey of Monmouth, the court genealogist, but something held him back.

The trouble was that the common people didn't have a great deal of interest to the writers of history, so he had worked from the bottom up, going through everything about the common people before he went to the ranks of nobility and began to read through those. The lesser nobility were a promising starting point, Leon thought. If such families died out, they were missed shortly, but ultimately forgotten. It took much longer for major families to be forgotten, and the likelihood that the child of such a family could go unrecognized throughout the land struck Leon as very low.

The book was massive, but Leon was determined to make is way through it, meticulously and at length, if necessary. He couldn't say why, but it felt necessary to do this.

/-/

Krysia poured more water for the king, who looked at her critically as she took a step back. He considered her as she tried to slip back into the background of his chambers, but he motioned for her to come back.

"Tell me, Krysia," he said. "In which forest were you found? Do you recall?"

"I believe it was somewhere in the Forest of Ascetir," she said. "At least, I think that's what Gaius said."

"And what do you recall of it?"

Krysia tried to ignore the sensation of her pulse in her throat, and said, "I…I am afraid I recall little. I remember that the soil was damp."

"Do you recall how long you were there?"

Krysia hesitated, hoping it looked like she was trying to remember. She felt dizzy, being reminded of these things, and worrying why Uther might be asking.

"I think perhaps a few days. I don't recall finding water, so it couldn't have been too long."

"And nothing before that?"

Again, Krysia hesitated and said, "No, I…nothing, sire."

He hummed, and while he didn't continue to ask questions, she couldn't shake the feeling that he was closing in on something, and she was terrified what he might ask her next.

/-/

Gwaine made it over the hill and into a very small border village. He was greeted when he arrived, and asked about his business and his needs by a kind woman.

"My business is…aimless wandering," he said with what he hoped was his most charming smile. "As to my needs, I can exchange food and shelter for a night with labor."

The woman considered him, then nodded and led him to what appeared to be her home. It was modest, but she put together some food for him. It was meager, but he got the sense that this was all they had to share.

"This is a farming community?" he said.

"We are," the woman said. "What is your name?"

"Gwaine. And yours?"

"Hunith."

"And how, Hunith, should I pay for my meal?"

The woman smiled and said, "You just eat. We'll decide payment together when you've had some food. I don't think it's fair to bargain with a man on an empty stomach."

For that, he was certainly grateful.

/-/

Leon hit a problem very quickly in his search through the minor nobles, and it only worsened the further through the book he went. The name Krysia, it seemed, was quite a common one, and had been something in fashion amongst nobles. It seemed that every fifth family he came across had a Krysia in them. Perhaps this was why a greater effort to determine her family was not made: with so many places to look, where would one begin?

He was able to eliminate all the Krysias he had come across thus far through simple elimination based on what he knew: her age, where she was found, and simple descriptions. A fair-haired child might make a dark-haired adult, but it rarely went the other way, to his knowledge.

Leon was only about a third of the way through the book when he had to take a break for the day to eat before he was expected on patrol duty.

He returned the book with some regret to its resting place, and he crept out of the library, hoping not to draw Geoffrey's attention to his presence. He was on his way to the kitchens when he came across Krysia returning the plates and utensils from Uther's breakfast.

"Sir Leon," she said, bowing her head lightly.

"Krysia," he said.

He caught himself before adding an honorific. While it wasn't certain that she was a noble, as he'd barely begun his search, the information he'd gathered did suggest to him that she was of noble birth of some description. But as she was unaware, better not to say something now.

"In what mood is our king today?" he said.

"He is…pensive today," she said. Her smile was forced, and he wondered if she realized. "Is your patrol near the council chambers today?"

"Yes," he said.

He'd arranged many of his patrols to be near where she worked, as many as he could justify to himself. He liked to watch her work, but now that Uther seemed to be considering her differently, he was all the more anxious to be nearby. He hoped he would overhear something useful, and he also felt that if whatever was in her path put her in any danger, he needed to be there, he needed to find a way to help her.

"Then I suppose I'll see you soon," she said.

He held open the kitchen door for her, and he watched her carefully arrange the dishes in a tub for washing before she rinsed and dried her hands. She smiled at him before leaving for her next task, and he watched her leave, standing in the kitchen doorway, forgetting why he was there for a moment, before he smelled a whiff of the stew on offer.

/-/

Krysia was shaking when she sat down in Gaius's chambers to lunch. Gaius didn't notice at first, but when she nearly dropped her spoon, he stopped his work and sat across from her.

"What's happened?" he said softly.

"It's nothing," she said.

"Krysia."

She set down her spoon, closed her eyes, and gently rubbed her temples.

"Uther asked me about the forest where I was found. He asked me all kinds of things, how long I'd been there, what I remembered about it, where I might have been before that. Gaius—"

"If he knew, he'd have acted already," Gaius said firmly. "What did you tell him?"

"The truth," she said. Gaius looked concerned when she opened her eyes again. "Gaius, I was not going to lie to him. Surely there is a record of some kind, or enough people who remember."

"Yes," Gaius said. "Yes, lying would do little good, in the end. It may not feel like it, but I do believe you made the right choice. Your family's lands are in Powys. Perhaps that you were found in Ascetir will muddle matters."

"Did you say my mother's family was from Ascetir?" Krysia whispered. "It is not my father he seems to remember, Gaius. Tell me the truth, he knew my mother well, didn't he?"

Gaius hesitated, but eventually he nodded.

"They had known each other well for a very long time. She spent a great deal of time in Camelot."

Krysia had a feeling there was more to the story, but she didn't have the time or energy to dig for the story now. She had to eat and return to her responsibilities.

"Be careful," Gaius said as she went to leave. "Especially given what we now know, Krysia, you would be considered a great danger to Camelot."

She shuddered.

"I know," she said. "I'll be as careful as I can, Gaius, but the more he asks, the more I think it must be only a matter of time."

"I hope you are wrong," Gaius said. "I truly do."

/-/

Gwaine finished repairing a roof and chopping wood for a few widows, and when he came in, he was surprised to find a dinner to rival the lunch he'd been given earlier.

"You've worked hard today," Hunith said. "Tell me, Gwaine, where do you suppose your aimless wandering may lead you?"

Gwaine took a long drink of soup and considered the question. If he tried to tell her the truth, it would surely be taken as madness. Travelling to Camelot to see a woman he couldn't be sure existed and who had completely abandoned his dreams? That sounded mad, even in his own head.

"I haven't decided," he lied.

"Well, there are many things a young man might like to see, I suppose," she said. "Mercia has a lake that I've been told glows violet as the sun sets. And the White Mountains are said to be wondrous. And there's always the city of Camelot, of course."

His mouth went dry when she said Camelot, the way it often did when he thought of the mysterious woman. He took a long drink of water. He thought he must have showed some reaction to the word Camelot, because Hunith gave him a knowing look.

"Do you know anyone in a nearby kingdom?" she said.

"No," he said. "No, my family are far to the west."

He hadn't travelled west for some time before the dreams began, trying to put as much distance between himself and his sister as he could manage. It never seemed far enough. He told Hunith some stories about his sister, about leaving home. She laughed at all the right places, which was polite of her.

"You said she's west, though," she said. "Why come to the border from the hills if you are heading east?"

"I was heading east, but I have been moving north for some time," he said.

"Why the change?"

Gwaine chewed his stew and considered the question. He couldn't explain it, but he had a feeling that this woman was someone who could understand. At least she seemed polite enough to pretend to understand.

"You'll think I'm mad," he said with a small smile.

"I very much doubt that."

They considered each other over their food, and then Gwaine shrugged and said, "I had a dream."

She didn't seem deterred by that, which was the craziest he felt safe opening up the story.

"I had a lot of dreams, actually," he said. "There was this woman in them. I've never seen anyone like her before. And for some reason I…I believe she's in Camelot. Mad, isn't it?"

"The world is full of things we cannot explain," Hunith said carefully. "Especially in dreams. I am old enough to recall, although you are not, a time when the Old Religion had much more power through the lands. Such things were not so uncommon then."

A small shiver went down his spine.

"Really?" he said. "You think…you think there's magic involved?"

"Oh, I don't know that I'd say that," she said. "It's a common misconception that everything unexplained is magic. I suppose that's easier to believe."

Gwaine considered her words. If there was some supernatural force involved, was it a force for good? And why was it drawing him westward?

He sat down to sleep that night and couldn't turn off his mind as he considered these questions. He liked to believe that the force, whatever it was, was benevolent. He couldn't imagine something feeling as warm and complete as those dreams being evil. But still, he prayed silently to whatever force might hear, that the dreams would return that night, even though he was beginning to lose hope that they'd abandoned him forever.

/-/

It was nearly dark when Leon was off duty. Arthur offered that he come with them to the tavern, but Leon pleaded tiredness and said perhaps next time. Instead, he went back to the library and found the book again. He opened the book to about where he'd left off and searched for the page marker he'd used as a stopping point.

Leon had barely begun reading through again when someone cleared their throat nearby. Leon looked up, startled, and saw Geoffrey of Monmouth staring at him expectantly.

"Sir Leon," Geoffrey said.

"Is the library closed?" Leon said, puzzled.

"It will be soon," Geoffrey said. "Are you looking for something particular? It may go more quickly if I were to help you."

Leon hesitated. Geoffrey, as the court genealogist, would certainly know enough to narrow the search. But he was also very close to Uther, and Leon wasn't sure he could trust that anything he found wouldn't go directly back to the king. If Leon's instincts were correct and Krysia was harboring—knowingly or unknowingly—some dangerous secret, it would be better to limit the possibility of discovery.

"I had curiosity about recent history," he said. "I am attempting to educate myself. I hadn't realized quite how much there was to learn, and I fear I am more uneducated than I realized."

He gave Geoffrey a weak smile, but Geoffrey seemed satisfied with this answer. He considered the book Leon was reading.

"A good starting point," Geoffrey said. "You are a careful man. Tell me, how far from a candle should one read?"

Leon realized he was being tested, and he said, "I do not believe it is best to read anywhere near a candle, if possible. Perhaps a separate table would be safe, if necessary."

Always better to be cautious if one hoped to please the librarian, Leon guessed, and it seemed he guessed correctly. Geoffrey gathered a stack of books and set them in front of Leon.

"Let me know if you have a particular interest after reading these," Geoffrey said. "They are a general overview of the history of families in the kingdom. These books will give you approximately three generations of information."

"Thank you," Leon said, carefully stacking all the books together. "I shall certainly let you know if I have need of more specific information."

Three generations should be plenty, but it was better not to make out that he was looking for anything specific. Leon took the books back to his chambers and carefully lit candle. He sat between the moonlit window and the table with the candle, knowing that if something did happen to one of these books, Geoffrey would never trust him again.

Leon settled into his chair and found his place again, aware that he had many days, perhaps many weeks, of reading ahead of him. He only hoped that some answers were held in the books he'd been loaned. He could not afford to waste any time if Krysia was, indeed, in danger.

His eyes grew heavy as he read, and he lamented that he didn't get as far as he'd have liked before he closed the book and carefully put out the candle. He applied the potion Gaius had given him reluctantly and curled up in bed again, wishing he could have just one more dream of Krysia.

A/N:

To Like-a-Slasher-Film:

Your bitching and moaning are noted and appreciated. I've done and read the line-by-line, and while it's a great way for uncertain young people to get into fan fiction, I would hope that I've moved beyond that since my masters in fiction writing. Hopefully.

I don't have a number yet on how many chapters, but had a good chuckle last night, actually, as I realized a way that I'm going to shave off at least two chapters, maybe three. My family is watching the show, and we're in season two right now. I had originally planned not to cover the story of Lady Catrina at all, but when I was re-outlining recently, I decided I was going to include it. Now that I'm watching it again, I remember why I was planning to skip it initially! But I do have a way to still include it, but shorten it significantly. So there you go, I'm still looking for ways to get there faster. Keep whining at me, I might find a few more places to shave off chapters.

-C