Krysia had a debrief with Uther as she served him while he broke his fast. He requested several redistributions of servants for upcoming events, and Krysia informed him of what would be served for his meals for the day.

"Will the Lady Morgana be returned for dinner?" Krysia said.

"They are meant to be returned by dusk," Uther said, "but she may wish to dine in her chambers. Prepare for both possibilities."

"Yes, sire."

She cleared away his plates and was about to put his request to the kitchens, but Uther stopped her.

"Krysia, she has been sensitive about her father's grave of late," Uther said. "Assign your most discrete maid to deliver the food."

"Of course, sire," Krysia said, although she knew Gwen would handle it better than any of her other maids could handle.

/-/

That evening, shortly after dusk, Krysia stood by to attend the king as he went over some of his paperwork in the council chambers when Arthur rushed in.

"Morgana's party hasn't returned to Camelot," Arthur said. "There's no sign of her anywhere."

Uther, just as urgent as he had been when he thought the Druids had kidnapped Morgana, stood abruptly.

"Send riders to the outlying villages," Uther said. "I want every guard, every sentry looking for her."

Krysia caught Leon's eye when Arthur said he would dispatch them immediately. All the guards, as ordered, did leave the council chamber, and Krysia wished she carried a knife. Not that she thought there would be an attack, but she hadn't realized just how secure having guards nearby at all times made her feel until they were all ordered away.

/-/

It was late into the night when Arthur returned with Morgana, still quite frazzled from her ordeal and clearly on edge.

"It's such a relief to see you safe," Uther said, standing. "I couldn't bear the thought of anyone harming you."

"The bandits still have Gwen," Morgana said, clearly not interested in celebrating yet.

"I believe they were Mercian," Arthur said. "We've received reports that Hengist has crossed the border."

Krysia shivered. She'd heard many a council report about Hengist, and Uther also seemed concerned at the report.

"You must send a rescue party," Morgana insisted.

"If Hengist is holding her, it would take a small army to rescue your maid," Uther said.

"We can't abandon her!"

"How many men would you have me sacrifice to save a servant?"

Krysia was surprised to see Leon turn to look at her, almost as if he was in pain. She wondered if he was morning the loss of Gwen, who had played with them as children, or if he was worried Krysia would be offended by Uther's words.

The trouble was, Krysia wasn't sure she wholly disagreed with Uther's words. It wasn't pretty, but there was wisdom in not being overly sentimental.

"As many as it takes!" Morgana said. "Gwen gave herself up so that I might escape. I owe her my life."

"She did so willingly," Uther said, "and she will be honored for it."

"I don't want her honored, I want her rescued! She is more than just my maid. She's my friend."

Uther looked around, clearly not saying something, and Krysia had a feeling she knew what it was. She cleared her throat lightly and said, "Forgive me, my lady, but it is very likely that Gwen is already dead. She would have been of no use without your presence."

Uther relaxed lightly, but Morgana became more distressed.

"No!" she said. "We cannot give up hope! Arthur?" she turned to him. "I'm begging you. You have to do something."

Arthur met Krysia's eye, and he seemed to understand, as she did, that there was no going against this order in public.

"My father's right," Arthur said. "I'm afraid there's nothing we can do."

"How can you say that?!" How can you live with yourselves?! All of you!"

Morgana marched out of the council chamber, leaving embarrassed silence in her wake.

/-/

Krysia took a small detour after she was off duty to sit on a battlement and consider her own lack of usefulness. She knew Merlin and Arthur were going after Gwen in the night, but there was nothing she could do to help. She had thought of offering to help distract the guard, but she knew Arthur wouldn't want her involved, and he wasn't wrong. The fewer involved, the fewer chances of being caught.

She was startled to hear footsteps near her, but she relaxed when she saw Leon approaching.

"Krysia," he said, bowing his head. "How are you feeling?"

"As well as I can," she said.

"Is there anything I can do?" he whispered.

She hummed, then said, "There is no one who can change the king's mind, and really, I don't fully believe that he is wrong, however it makes us feel."

"What do you mean?"

"No matter how good the servant, Leon, they are not worth losing nights."

He shook his head and said, "No, Krysia. What good are knights if we don't guard citizens with our lives, no matter who the citizens? I would give my life for the least of Uther's servants, and I hope that the others feel the same."

"That you would be willing is nobility," she said. "But Uther has to think of practicality as well as nobility. Just because you would be willing doesn't make it wise or prudent."

Leon didn't seem willing to accept this, but he didn't press the matter. Instead, they sat together and watched the stars for a while, and Krysia hoped that this small distraction of one night would make it easier for Arthur and Merlin to get out without being detected.

/-/

The next day, Krysia decided to head off questions to avoid seeming that she had made excuses. As Uther broke his fast, Krysia informed him that Arthur would be absent for several days.

"Did he give a reason?" Uther said.

"Hunting, he said, sire," Krysia lied.

Uther hummed, although she could tell he didn't fully believe Arthur's excuse.

"How many went with him?"

"That I do not know, sire," she said. "I do know his servant went with him, but beyond that I do not know."

"And did he say how long he would be away?"

"He gave no number, sire, but I believe he expected to be gone for several days based on how his servant packed."

Uther thanked her, and they went about their usual routine. Krysia wasn't sure Arthur would avoid his father's wrath when he returned, but at least he would bring back Gwen safe. She had faith in that.

/-/

The wait felt longer than several days, and each morning without Arthur's presence brought increased tension to the wait. She could feel Uther, Morgana, Gaius all impatiently waiting for the result, and Krysia tried not to join them in the impatient wait.

It was, then, a special relief when Arthur and Merlin returned with Gwen, and Morgana was relieved. Krysia arranged to have herself away from the king as much as possible that day to give Arthur the space to make his excuses to his father without her presence, but she did warn him of her lie.

That evening, Uther called her particularly to the council chambers, and she found them empty. She became nervous that she'd done something wrong, and she tried to ignore the shaking of her hands.

"Yes, sire?" she said, bowing her head.

"This ordeal with Hengist has given me pause, Krysia," he said. "Our borders are more flexible to such men than I would wish, and depending on the spirit of the people, they may be even more porous than we can handle."

She waited to hear why he'd called her and not Arthur or even Gaius for this conversation. She also felt extremely uncomfortable by the way his voice echoed in the very empty room.

"I need to take a pulse of the people," he said. "I need someone I can trust to go to a village, perhaps Willowdale, and stay for a few nights, get a sense of how the people feel about their king, their knights, and other concerns."

Krysia continued to wait, still uncertain why she had been called. Surely Arthur was better suited to recommend a knight for the task. Gaius knew far more people than her, and probably already had a contact in Willowdale who could report back regularly.

"You would be comfortable," Uther said. "Coin would be extracted from the treasury for your food and lodging on the journey. You would have your pick of the horses, and anything else you require."

"Sire?" she said. "I don't understand."

"I am asking you, Krysia," he said, "to go to Willowdale for several days and gather whatever information you can about the current climate of the opinion of the people out of the town."

She stared back at Uther without realizing for a long moment, and she quickly lowered her gaze.

"Why me, sire?" she said. "Surely you have people who are—"

"I have knights, who would be recognized as knights at once. I have many servants, but few how have served as long or as faithfully as you. A woman is far less likely to be suspected, and I have few women in my service who know how to protect themselves, should they be waylaid. It is the best balance between security and subtly available to me at present."

Krysia couldn't dispute this point, and she nodded her head lightly. She was confident she would be able to complete the task, but it felt strange, leaving the city she had so scarcely left since coming as a child.

"You said other matters, sire," she said.

"Hmm?"

"How the people feel about their king, their knights, and other concerns. Do you just wish me to gather all the information I can, or is there a particular point you'd like me to consider?"

Uther gave her a long and thoughtful look before he said, "Neighboring kingdoms, the prosperities and woes of their work, and perhaps if there are any whisperings of magic in the area. Is there anything you will require except for a horse and gold?"

"I do not believe so, sire," she said. "When would you like me to ride out?"

"At first light," he said. Krysia bowed her head and was about to ask if she was dismissed to prepare, but he stood and she held her tongue. He took a few steps toward her.

"Take this as well," he said, retrieving from his side his own dagger. Krysia startled.

"Sire, I—"

"You will need something to protect yourself with while on the road, and a sword would be too unusual and suspicious."

Krysia shook her head, turning away his dagger.

"Sire, I cannot carry anything so precious or distinctive," she said. "It would be as suspicious as a sword. I have a blade of my own that I will take. Please, am I permitted to go and prepare for my ride?"

Uther was disappointed that she wasn't taking his dagger, but he agreed with her reasoning, and he dismissed her.

Krysia's hands trembled all the way back to Gaius's chambers, and Gaius was surprised when she told him of her mission.

"How long will you be away?" Gaius said.

"Several nights," she said. "I need to have arrangements made for my absence. I wish it weren't such short notice. Gaius, where is my knife?"

He frowned at her, but he went to a box and produced the knife her father had left her with as a child. It had no markings of her house or her heritage, but it was still a piece of her, something that was as precious to her as anything in the world. While hiding it hadn't been strictly necessary, Gaius had thought it wise, and she had not disagreed. But she would not be caught with the king's dagger by someone who might recognize its craftsmanship.

"You'll be careful?" Gaius said.

"I'm always careful."

"Krysia."

"What?" she said, looking up from her knife. "I am?"

He gave an amused shake of his head. She kissed his cheek and began her long night of preparation: packing, redistributing the servants, and then sleep. Or, whatever sleep she could muster.

/-/

Before the dawn, Krysia gathered her bag, hid her knife, and hurried down to the stables to retrieve a horse. She was met not by Arthur, who she expected to send her off, but Leon. He was pacing at the front of the stables and didn't even notice she'd arrived until she cleared her throat.

"Krysia," he said, bowing his head lightly. "I…Arthur was detained by…"

"He's in trouble, isn't he?" she said.

Leon didn't say, but the twitch at the corners of his lips was answer enough. He retrieved a pouch of money from his bag, and he startled when she deposited it under her tunic.

"Safe from cutpurses," she said. "I suppose all I need now is a horse."

"I have saddled the gentlest," he said.

She thought of chastising him for saddling the horse himself, but she was touched that he'd taken the trouble to ease her journey. She was surprised, however, when he led out his own horse, Ember. She was about to argue, but Leon shook his head.

"Someone needs to keep you company," he said. "And even if Uther hadn't forbidden anyone to ride with you, I'm sure you would have turned away any offer of company. But you need a horse, and I trust Ember to bring you back safely."

"I'll guard her well," Krysia said, patting the black snout of the horse gently. Ember nuzzled Krysia's face, eager to see her.

"I know," Leon said, smiling weakly. "You're sure you have everything you need?"

"I suppose I do," Krysia said. "It's not so far to Willowdale, and I'll be back soon enough."

He seemed about to say something, but he instead smiled, patted ember, and helped Krysia to mount. When she was securely seated, he took a step back.

"Ride safe," he said.

"I will," she promised, and she took a deep breath. She gently nudged Ember onward with her heels, and Krysia began to ride out, away from Camelot.

/-/

Gwaine nursed a glass of ale and considered his options. If he rode south, he would arrive at Camelot. But if he did this and she was nowhere to be seen, the dream would be over. He had taken the long way around from Ealdor, not eager to reach that seemingly probable eventuality.

He was teetering on the precipice between riding south and riding north. He could finish the mess and either find her or not, or he could ride north and try to forget the whole thing, to purge this burning in his soul that seemed to call him to Camelot. There was always Mercia.

He would have to make up his mind by the time he finished this ale, and so he sipped it slower than he'd ever sipped anything, including medicine. He couldn't fathom giving up, and he couldn't fathom being disappointed. Both options were so impossible, that he began to wish for a bottomless ale.

Then the door to the tavern opened, and several men near the door perked up unusually. Gwaine looked up, expecting a knight or a prince to have entered, but instead he saw a woman.

Not just a woman. Not even just a beautiful woman. This was, he was sure, the woman in his dreams. He pinched his side to be sure he was awake, and he watched her enter and speak to the barman.

Unlike in his dreams, where she was dressed in silks if dressed at all, here she was wearing practical and nondescript riding clothes, but he did appreciate how he could see the shape of her, even in such clothes. Her hair like gold was carefully arranged in a plait over her shoulder, and Gwaine could imagine unpicking the plait to let it fall around her face.

One of the men near the door sat beside her while she was talking to the barkeep and put his hand on her thigh. The man startled out of his chair and onto the floor when she pricked him with a blade on the hand that had violated her space, and Gwaine took a drink of ale to cover his urge to laugh. He did love a woman who could take care of herself.

The thought was followed by another that struck him as impossible as it was true: he was in love with her, this woman he'd never officially met. She was only a dream, and yet he was sure it was her, and now he knew she was real. Somehow, although he did not even know her name, he was in love with her.

The question of north or south felt irrelevant now, and he downed his ale in two quick gulps while she conversed with the barman. He summoned all his courage, and he crossed the tavern, ignoring the whispers and chuckles of men who had watched the other man be stabbed. He had faith in the dreams, and he knew things that none of these men knew. Somehow, someway, he was going to make those dreams real.

Gwaine sat in the seat beside her, putting it upright so he could be near her. He was careful not to get too close or to touch her. There was something enticing about having a beautiful woman prick him with a knife, but it wasn't the way to meet someone.

"Shall I buy your next drink, then?" he said.

She froze when he spoke, staring at the bar for a long moment, before she turned to face him. He was even more sure it was her from this close. Every particular of her face, every curve, every freckle, every hair of her eyebrows: he'd seen her for so many times he felt he could reach out and touch her face and it would still feel familiar.

"I can buy my own drinks," she whispered.

"I'm quite sure you can," he said. "But wouldn't it be churlish of me not to offer? My name is Gwaine."

"Krysia," she said.

They stared at each other for a long moment, and then he realized he hadn't said anything for some time.

"So," he said, smiling with more genuine joy than he'd felt in a long time, "what would you like?"

A/N:

To fantasy.92:

Yes, the Witchhunter is very soon. It's one of my favorite episodes, but it'll be a tricky one. I have lots of ideas, but quite honestly, I'm not solid on any of them yet. I keep changing my mind. I guess we'll find out soon enough!

-C