Krysia paused in the tunnels, listening, when she could see the warm glow of a candle. There was the sound of crying, and Merlin's voice.

"You're alright," Merlin said softly. "You're safe now."

The girl, still crying, said, "You must hate me."

"No."

"I'm a monster. I tried to tell you."

"I know."

"I wasn't always like this," she said.

"Shh. You shouldn't try to talk."

"There was a man," she said. "He attacked me. I didn't mean to hurt him, but I thought he was going to kill me."

Krysia could feel her heart in her throat, and she knew she couldn't just linger in the wings. She needed to support her friend. Very gently, she moved through the tunnel and spoke softly.

"Merlin," she said, "how's her wound?"

The girl startled, and Merlin held her more tightly.

"It's alright," Krysia said, kneeling beside her. "It's alright, I'm a friend. My name is Krysia. Your name is…Freya, right?" The girl nodded. "Pretend I'm not here, keep telling your story."

Freya hesitated, but she let Krysia move Merlin's jacket, which he had draped over her for modesty, and Krysia saw the wounds, deep and certainly fatal. Even with magic, the best she could do was make the girl more comfortable as she died.

"His mother was a sorceress," the girl continued, "and when she found out that I'd killed her son, she cursed me to kill forever more."

"I'm going to make you better, Freya," Merlin said.

Krysia was about to shake her head, but Freya beat her to it.

"No, Merlin, the wound's too deep," Freya said. "Please, go."

"No," Merlin said through tears. "I'm not leaving you here."

Krysia asked Freya to lay still as she could, and she did a closing of the wound, as best she could, so the girl could be moved. It wasn't healed, but it put off the inevitable.

"You're going to be in pain," Krysia said softly. "Would you like me to put you to sleep?"

"Yes, please," Freya said.

Krysia carefully incanted to put Freya into a deep sleep, strong enough to override the pain from her fatal injuries.

"Where are we going to take her?" she asked Merlin when Merlin scooped Freya into his arms.

"You should go back," Merlin said.

"Merlin, you need me," she said. "Where are we taking her?"

Merlin looked around the tunnel and said, "She grew up by a lake."

Krysia smiled, understanding at once. Together, they crept through the tunnels, to the end of the line, and then out into the woods, into the night.

It took hours to carry Freya to the lake, and it was nearly daybreak when they sat at the lakeside together, resting before Freya woke. Krysia looked up at the mountain, watching the delicate colors of a sunrise dancing off the edges.

"I need you to heal her, Krysia," Merlin whispered, "because I know I don't have the strength or the skill."

Krysia closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. It smelled too similar to the woods where she was found, and her pulse jumped without reason. She opened her eyes again.

"I don't have the skill, either, Merlin," Krysia said, "and I need you to know how sorry I am."

Merlin was staring at Freya, and he shook his head slightly. Krysia wondered what he was thinking, how much pain he was in.

"You don't understand," he said. "You've never been in love."

Krysia crossed her arms and leaned against a nearby tree. Merlin was startled by the change in her posture, and she spoke very firmly.

"Don't presume to know what I have or haven't felt," she said. "Nor Gaius. You're going to owe him an apology, you know."

"I know," he said. He wiped at his eyes. "I'm sorry. But you've never had…this."

"No," Krysia said. She tried not to look at the girl, but she tried to imagine how she might feel, should she lose Gwaine. She'd be tempted to try everything to save him, no matter the cost. She knew that was what Merlin was asking of her, but especially in Freya's case, it was not so simple.

She moved to sit beside Merlin, and she said, "Merlin, if I saved her, regardless of the consequences of that immediate action, I cannot lift the curse. She would be alive, but we'd be condemning her to live that nightmare over and over and over. It would be a matter of time before something like this happened again, and I would not be around to save her again. What do you think Freya would want?"

The twisting of Merlin's face, the agony, was so evident, Krysia imagined she could feel it in her own body. He covered his face quickly, wiping at his eyes, but Krysia would never be able to remove that image from her head. She understood now why Leon always saw the starving child when he looked at her: some images were so painful, they changed how you saw someone forever.

"The sun is coming," he said. "We should wake her. I want to say goodbye."

Krysia gave him some space and found a boat for the funeral.

She couldn't hear them speaking, but she could tell that Freya was running out of time, and Merlin was struggling to say goodbye. When Merlin stood, lifting Freya again, Krysia knew it was time. She pulled the boat closer, and Merlin carefully laid her on the boat.

"Astyre," Merlin said, sending the boat into the lake.

Krysia waited, lingering, wondering if he'd do the work himself.

"Do you need me to…?" she said when he did not do the spell.

That prompt was all he needed to push the incantation out of his lips. The boat ignited, and they watched it burn together.

"You should go to the king," he said thickly. "He'll wonder where you've gone."

"You should go to Gaius," she said. "He'll wonder the same."

/-/

Krysia arrived at the king's chambers to find him already dressed and working at his desk. She set down the tray and was about to apologize for lateness when he set down his papers and looked up at her.

"Are you alright?" he said.

"Yes, sire," she said, setting out the silverware for him and clearing the papers to the side. "I do apologize. I didn't sleep very well last night—"

"Perfectly understandable," he said. "Arthur tells me he believes he's killed the creature."

"Yes," Krysia said, smiling and hoping he didn't see how much pain the smile was causing her. "That's…good to hear."

Uther began to eat, and Krysia made up the bed again for him, carefully arranging it as she knew he preferred. She had a strange sensation like she was being watched, and she turned slowly after placing the last pillow.

"Is there something else, sire?" she said.

He was staring at her, drinking his tea and ignoring his breakfast otherwise. She had a horrible feeling like he was scrutinizing her somehow, like perhaps his memory was being triggered again. Instead of asking her about herself, her past, her memory, he asked about the creature.

"Gaius said the girl likely had no control," he said.

"Very little, as the readings suggested," Krysia said softly. "I had the sense that…. Well, people don't typically choose to be cursed, do they? Perhaps she has some peace now."

Uther hummed, and he continued to watch her as she gathered his clothes for washing. She wanted to ask what he was thinking, but she also thought it might be dangerous.

"I think I should like a bath this evening," he said.

"I'll let Clay know," she said.

"Why don't you take the lunch hour as a break for yourself?" he said. "You do look as if you haven't slept."

Krysia must have looked at him with surprise, because he very quickly said, "Not that you don't look lovely, as always, Krysia, but you seem tired. It isn't healthy to stay up all night, however understandable."

"No, I suppose it isn't," she said with a weak smile. "Thank you sire, I shall take that break. But it was nice to see the sunrise for once. They're possibly the most beautiful thing in nature."

"Sunrises?" he said, his eyes widening.

"Yes, sire."

She certainly showed her confusion when he froze, his face growing pale. She was about to ask if there was anything else he required when Uther cleared his throat and said, "Yes, could you send Gaius to the council chambers? I'd like to see him alone."

"Of course, sire."

Leave his chambers, she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd said or done something wrong, she just couldn't think what it could possibly be.

/-/

Uther stared at the table in front of him, thinking of the curve of Krysia's neck, the way she bent to pick things up, the way she even said the word sunrise. It was growing harder and harder to ignore the similarities, and he couldn't ignore them on his own. Someone needed to tell him it was in his head, and there were only so many people left who might remember.

When Gaius entered the council chamber, Uther looked up and told Sir Leon to close the door, that no one was to enter until they were finished. Leon did not hesitate, as he never did. Like his father. Like his brother. Their deaths felt as though they were on Uther's hands.

Just like everyone else.

He was beginning to understand why Zosia didn't want to be a queen. The weight of other people's tragedies on her shoulders was more than she'd wanted to bear. And now he bore it alone.

"You sent for me, sire?" Gaius said, with a small bow.

"Krysia," Uther said softly. "Give me your assessment of her."

Gaius looked surprised, perhaps even confused, but he stood in his still way, like a tree rooted to the floor.

"She is a good worker, as you know, sire," Gaius said. "Meticulous, cautious, able to see the large picture and the smallest of details. She is polite, discrete, pleasant—"

"Yes, yes," Uther said. He waved away the litany of compliments that they both knew so well. She was many things, all those things. That was not what Uther wanted to know.

He stood and paced the chamber a few times. Gaius stood still and watched him walk, and Uther finally froze.

"What was the name of Lady Zosia's eldest child?" Uther finally said.

The question certainly did surprise Gaius, which was perhaps a good sign. If she reminded Gaius of Zosia, surely the question would not have caught him so unaware.

"I believe the eldest was Aspasia, was she not?" Gaius said. "It has been very many years."

"Aspasia?" Uther said, trying the name on his tongue. He shook his head. "No, that was one of the twins. They were toward the…end."

Gaius nodded slowly.

"Ebba, perhaps?"

That name did feel more familiar to Uther, Ebba. Older, certainly, but the eldest? He couldn't be sure. It would have to be the eldest child to be the correct age, but Gaius didn't seem to see why the questions. Again, this should have put Uther at ease, but it did not.

"Have you ever watched her pick up a fork, Gaius?" Uther said, turning his back. The memory of Zosia at a table blended seamlessly with the memory of Krysia preparing a table.

"A fork, sire? Of course I have seen her pick up a fork."

"No, watched her," Uther said, turning around again. "I have. I have watched her very carefully every time she holds a fork, just as I used to watch Zo. She holds her silverware with the exact same care, the same delicate hold. That is not typical, it wasn't typical for a courtier, it isn't typical for a servant."

A long silence drew out between them, and Uther wondered what could be going on in the old man's mind. He needed to know, he needed to know for certain.

"Sire," Gaius finally said softly, "I know how dear the Lady Zosia was to you, and I know how much it cost you to order her execution. She was a remarkable woman, certainly, all the more remarkable for how you felt about her, but she was by no means unique. Krysia spent a great deal of time in Lady Evaine's household as part of her training at Sir Bors's suggestion. I know you haven't forgotten how much Lady Evaine…shall we say admired Lady Zosia?"

That was a sensible point, logical. Perhaps Zosia's eldest was named Ebba. Perhaps Krysia had learned the mannerisms from an old, dear friend of Zosia's. Perhaps it really was all in his head.

"She likes sunrises," Uther whispered.

"Sire?"

Uther squeezed his hand into a fist, trying to find a way to explain, a way that did make it seem that he was grasping at sand.

"When I was young," he said, "when I spend time at Carneath, Zo would wake me before the dawn and drag me to somewhere high, or to the river, and we would watch the sunrise together. She delighted in the light, the colors. She used to say there was…nothing else like it in nature."

Gaius tilted his head and said, "And this has to do with Krysia because…?"

"She mentioned sunrises today," Uther whispered. "The fondness, the way she even said the word, Gaius, it was the same."

There was a sadness in Gaius's face as Uther stared at him, not sure if he was hoping his old friend would say he was wrong or he was right. Both answers felt calamitous, but an answer was essential.

"Sire, may I ask, did Aredian suggest that Krysia might be related to Lady Zosia while he was here?"

Uther shook his head and said, "I thought of that, Gaius, but I already had this feeling, not always, but it haunts me at odd times. This is not the doing of Aredian."

Gaius hummed, then said, "Sunrises are not the domain of House Adaire, sire. The common folk are known to appreciate them as well. I will watch closely for you, sire, but I suspect this is a matter of…missing a dear old friend."

Uther felt almost disappointed at Gaius's assessment. Part of him really had hoped, or even feared, that Krysia would be Zosia's child. Perhaps it was simply to feel that he wasn't losing his mind, perhaps because of what Gaius suggested: Uther was alone in the world now. The seats on his council were filled increasingly by fresh faces and sons of old friends, not the people who originally held them. Perhaps this was part of growing older. Perhaps it was part of being king.

"Thank you, Gaius," Uther said. "You have…eased my mind. If you do notice anything—"

"I'll tell you straight away," Gaius said.

/-/

Leon stood as still and as expressionless as he could under the grate to the council chamber. He had sent away the other guards, and he had listened carefully to every word he could make out between Uther and Gaius. Normally he would feel it inappropriate to listen, but when he'd heard Krysia's name by accident, he knew it had been the right thing to do.

Gaius certainly knew who Krysia was, and a part of Uther seemed to know as well. Gaius was lying to Uther for Krysia sake, which could hold off Uther's suspicions for some time, but how long? And once he knew, what would become of her?

Not for the first time since his mother passed, Leon wished he could have her back, even for an afternoon. She would know what to do, or what to avoid, to keep Krysia safe. Had she recognized Krysia as a child? Suddenly the little things his mother had done over the years, from slipping Krysia extra sweets when all the children were over to personally providing Gaius with clothes for Krysia as she grew…. It didn't feel like charity for a lost orphan anymore, but perhaps her way of showing extra kindness to the child of a dear lost friend.

Leon took his usual post as he heard footsteps approaching the day, and he nodded to Gaius as the door opened. Gaius barely saw Leon as he swept past, lost in his own thoughts. Likewise, when Leon stepped into the chamber, he saw Uther sitting at the table again, his head in his hands, staring at the table top blankly.

"Shall I inquire about your lunch, sire?" Leon said.

Uther looked up at him for a moment, and he blinked, startled.

"Yes, of course," Uther said softly.

Leon nodded, and he couldn't help thinking that Uther looked a bit smaller than Leon had ever remembered seeing him. He couldn't be sure, but it had sounded very much like at the least, Uther and the Lady Zosia had been dear childhood friends, and possibly they had been in love. Leon couldn't imagine what that had been like, sending the knights to execute not just a dear friend, but someone he had loved.

Leon wasn't sure if this made him weaker or stronger than Uther, but he didn't think he could have done it. No matter what the law, no matter what the expectation, even if she'd tried to execute Arthur, Leon could never harm Krysia.

But perhaps that was the difference between a knight and a king.

/-/

Krysia returned to Gaius's quarters and found him puzzling over an old book. She said his name when she entered, and he hummed. She started preparing a quick lunch from the food he'd gathered but seemed to have forgotten about.

"Is everything alright?" she said, setting a plate in front of him.

He looked up at her, and he blinked as if seeing her for the first time.

"Yes," he said, frowning. "Yes, everything's fine. I suppose we all had a very long night."

She very rarely felt that Gaius was keeping something from her, but she knew that if she needed to know, he'd tell her at the right time. Instead, she settled into lunch, just the two of them, just like when she was a child.

A/N:

It's time for the big news! I spent yesterday evening (I thought I posted the last chapter yesterday, so that's why these are shockingly close together…I did not) outlining a new story. What story you ask?

Prequel. We're doing a prequel. You'll get to see Zosia and Marcial, you'll have Gorlois, Vivienne, Uther, Ygraine, the de Bois brothers, and even the origin stories of a few of our knights. Are you excited? I'm excited. This may be released in multiple stories, but I'm going to tell you right now that the major POV characters are Uther, Zosia, Vivienne, and Marcial. I'm going to do up the very first chapter as soon as I've posted this, and our story is going to be titled Camelot: Forged from Ashes.

Don't like prequels? Don't like Uther? Don't like fun? (Kidding) This should not slow up the chapters of this story in any way. Only life will do that. So even if you won't be excited with the rest of us, please at least don't be bitter.

You may even, depending on timing, get some sneak peeks at big reveals at the end of this story (Which may be some chapters, or it may be a second tale…I haven't yet decided…I'm leaning toward the latter).

The astute among you will notice that I've renamed this story as well. This is now Camelot: Krysia & Gwaine. It's a series, y'all. We're doing a series. Never say I ever knew when to stop.

-C