The days blurred together in the cells, and Leon hadn't been keeping track. He'd been kept separate from the other knights, although he knew that many had been kept together. He knew very little about conditions outside the walls of the dungeon, only the stench of the straw and the slop that supposedly passed as food. When the guards came to fetch Leon, he wasn't certain that it was even real until they were nearly out of the dungeons. He passed a cell holding the king, and he felt a tightness in his throat, the pain of his own failure.
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Uther lifted his head as Morgana's men led Leon out of the dungeons. The young man looked dazed, exhausted. Uther shifted on the floor, wondering if Krysia knew the condition Leon was in. It was still incomprehensible that she would go along with Morgana's coup, and yet… It was equally incomprehensible that Morgana would do everything she had done. Duress made more sense on Krysia's part, and a horrified niggling at the back of his mind wondered whether Morgana was the one who had poisoned Krysia.
Did the control still linger?
Of course, there was nothing he could do about it from in here, but the questions lingered.
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Leon was led into the council chamber and thrown on the floor at the foot of the throne, which was inhabited by Morgana. She wore the crown of Camelot and a self-satisfied smile. Morgana had always been a beautiful woman, but without the light of joy she'd had when she was younger, Leon couldn't help thinking she looked like a shell. The witch Morgause watched on, at Morgana's side.
"Tell me, Sir Leon," she said, "how have you enjoyed the first week of my reign?"
Had it only been a week? He stayed silent, staring at the floor.
"Speak up," she said. "Are you and your fellow knights ready to honor and serve me?"
This game again. Leon stared at the foot of the throne, holding on to the hope that somehow Arthur was still out there, still alive.
"I would rather die," he said.
Morgause said, "That can be arranged.
Leon looked up and said, "My loyalty is to the king and Prince Arthur. There is nothing you can do to change that."
Morgana smiled softer, almost like he recalled from when she was a child.
"We shall see," she said. She nodded over his shoulder, and Leon turned, inhaling when he saw Krysia gliding across the council room floor.
"Beautiful, isn't she, Sir Leon?" Morgana said, teasing. "I know there's nothing you would not do for her. She and I have made a little agreement. If you bend the knee, you can be married tomorrow."
Leon's throat was tight as he stared up at Krysia, who was smiling at him tenderly. Beautiful, yes. But surely she would never agree to such a thing. And if she did, what threats or promises had she been given to comply?
"My lady," he choked out. "Please, don't do yourself the indignity—"
She knelt beside him, her pale blue dress pooling around her gracefully as she touched his face. Something wasn't right. Her hand was soft, but it was colder than stone.
"Leon, it's alright," she said. "Please, it's the right thing to do. And you'll be safe. That's really all I want."
His pulse was wild at those words, but he knew something was still wrong. He couldn't place it. Was she enchanted? Was she hurt in some way? Was she being coerced?
She leaned in and placed a kiss on the side of his face, and her lips were warmer than her hands had been, but still strangely cool, and when her hair tickled of nostrils it smelled of…dust.
He jerked back, laughing bitterly. Morgana's face twitched with surprise.
"Did you really think I could be fooled with this…illusion?" he said, staring up at her defiantly. "Do you truly believe that there is any detail of Krysia that I don't know better than I know myself?"
Morgana sat up straighter, nostrils flared, and the illusion of Krysia vanished like smoke. Before he could demand to see the real Krysia, to know that she was being well-treated, Morgana nodded, and the guards were dragging him away again, back to his cell to wonder in silent agony.
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Gwaine rested against the wall of the cave, his sword out, ready at any time for Morgana's soldiers to find them. He'd taken more watches than the others by design. For one, Arthur hadn't been alert enough to take a rotation. For another, Gwaine hadn't been able to sleep since they left the citadel, since Merlin described Krysia's duress, having to bow the knee to Morgana.
It was once Morgana was revealed to be what she was that Merlin had told Gwaine that Morgana had been the one who poisoned Krysia, and he couldn't help but wonder how safe she could be in the center of the serpent's den.
Gwaine sat at attention as Merlin darted through the forest like he was being chased. Gwaine patted his shoulder as he entered the cave, watching every tree for whatever he'd been running from, but the trees were still silent.
For now.
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Krysia stood with Morgana and Morgause from the balcony, looking at the people gathered in the courtyard. She gripped her hands into the green velvet dress she was wearing, hoping her nerves didn't show. She stared at Leon, who stood at the fore of the line of knights Morgana had gathered, and he looked so thin, so gaunt after such a short time. She hadn't worked out a good excuse to see him in the cells, not without raising suspicion, but she was sure if she could just get him out, they could find Arthur and she could get some traction on setting things right.
"I will give you one more chance to pledge your allegiance to me," Morgana said to the knights.
The crossbows from Morgana's soldiers were openly pointed at the knights of Camelot, and Leon stared directly at Morgana, smiling, clearly prepared to die.
It was too late for Krysia's plan, she knew. If he was dying here, she would need some other way to find Arthur, although she didn't know how.
"Long live the king!" Leon cried. The knights echoed his call, and Krysia knew his father would be so proud of him, of his bravery and his loyalty, and she hoped his family would be joined happily in the spirit world. She held her breath.
"Perhaps this will help you change your mind," Morgana said.
She gave a signal, and instead of unleashing the arrows on the knights of Camelot, Morgana's soldiers turned the bows toward the people. The people screamed, running as they tried to escape the arrows.
"Oh gods," Krysia gasped, seeing several fall, including two children. She grabbed the edge of the balcony to keep herself steady.
"No!" Leon cried.
His scream echoed the agony in her own chest, the agony she was not safe to let out. There had to be some way to end this madness. If she could only get into the cells, she would find a solution.
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Gwaine startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder, but he relaxed when he looked up at Gaius's face.
"You need to take rest too," Gaius said with that stern-yet-avuncular way he had.
Gwaine leaned back against the opening of the cave and tried like he had a million times to not imagine Krysia's face, to not touch the belt in his pocket.
"I can't," Gwaine said softly.
Gaius hummed, and Gwaine didn't dare look at him. He didn't want to see the pity in the man's face, because it would only magnify the pain and fear and mess he felt mingled in his chest whenever he dared think on how he felt.
"She's the bravest and strongest person I know," Gaius said softly. "If anyone can figure out to navigate whatever Morgana is doing in that castle, it's Krysia. If she doesn't find a way to us, then whenever we return, she'll be there working to aid us from the inside."
Gwaine wanted so badly to believe that, he wanted it like he wanted water, which they were low on. He should go to get more, but whatever happened the last time Merlin left, he got skiddish whenever someone suggested stepping out. They couldn't put it off forever, but perhaps cover of darkness would be the best time.
"When I sleep," Gwaine whispered, "I dream of her, and it's always perfect. She's always perfect. Except then I wake, and I remember why she's not with me, and it feels so much worse than just staying awake."
Gaius hummed and said, "I'm sure she's dreaming of you, too. You could always look at the dreams as a gift, a few moments of respite in a time of great uncertainty."
He could, Gwaine thought bitterly, if he could stop imagining the hell she was living in the rest of the hours. But he just quietly thanked Gaius and asked if there was any food. Gaius gripped Gwaine's shoulder again and said he'd see what he could turn up.
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Uther watched Morgana's men collect corpses from the square, including the body of a child, perhaps four years old. He barely heard the door of his cell opening. He could only see the bodies of his people being plucked away by the guards like carrion.
"Father," Morgana said, and when Uther turned to look at her she was wearing a self-satisfied smile he barely recognized.
He wondered whether she'd made Krysia watch this slaughter. Krysia, who hated executions no matter what they were for.
"Why are you doing this?" Uther said."
"Oh, come, come," she said, teasing. "Surely you of all people must understand. Sometimes such measures are necessary."
He tried to reach her in his frustration, his anger, but he was chained to the wall, too far to even be within arm's reach. He pulled against the chains as if they had any chance of breaking, but he knew it was hopeless.
"Those people are innocent!" he cried with frustration, thinking of that small child.
Morgana's smile melted.
"As were so many that you put to death," she said. "Or have you forgotten Krysia's little siblings, burned to death in their home?"
He tugged again, the metal chafing at his skin as he pulled.
"If you must kill someone, kill me," he said.
He meant every word. If it could save another life, if he could spare anyone with his death, it would be a worthwhile end. He was so tired of others dying in his stead.
"You'll get your wish," Morgana said, "But not yet. First I want you to suffer as I suffered. To know what it is like to be alone and afraid. To be disgusted with who and what you are."
Uther watched, stunned, as she turned, about to leave. He tried to blink away his tears, but he couldn't. She paused, seeing his tears. For a small moment, he hoped she still had a heart inside somewhere.
"Do you really hate me so much?" he said.
The look she gave him was ice as she stared at him.
"You cannot begin to know how much I hate you," she said, and one of the guards closed the door to his cell.
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Leon traced a finger lazily along Krysia's bare spine as she slept, and he watched her lip twitch into a smile. He shifted closer to her, pressing a few firm kisses along her shoulder, breathing in the beautiful, floral scent combined with sweat and a smell that in his dreams he had come to associate with intercourse.
"It had better be a mealtime," she muttered, "or you're going to have a lot of apologizing to do for waking me.
Leon paused, his lips almost touching her skin. He had no idea what time it was, when they had last eaten, or anything except that the sun was up, and she was too beautiful not to touch.
"I'm prepared to make any apology you deem fit," he said, "for I'm afraid I don't know the time."
Her laugh was musical, and she rolled to face him, pulling him in to kiss her lips. He inhaled the floral, sweaty scent of…straw…
Leon sat bolt upright in his cell as the dream faded, so vivid he could almost taste her on his tongue. The dreams had been frequent since Morgana took over, and he was beginning to wonder if the dreams weren't a form of torture from Morgana, a way of breaking his will. It might be effective, he thought bitterly, trying to scourge the sight of Krysia's naked breasts and back from his head.
If these dreams were placed as a lure, he couldn't succumb to them, if only to spare Krysia whatever Morgana might be planning for her. If he couldn't even do this much, what could he do on behalf of his king?
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Krysia rubbed the embroidery of her belt, staring as Gwen made Morgana's bed. Gwen was one of the few people in the castle staff who could make a bed to Krysia's satisfaction, so rather than feeling the urge to unmake it and do it over, she found it soothing to watch Gwen work while Morgana puzzled whatever she was puzzling.
"I'm beginning to see the challenges that I face," Morgana finally said. "Being queen is not so simple."
Krysia looked at Morgana silently, but Gwen forced a smile and said, "You're doing well, your majesty."
Krysia knew those words must burn on Gwen's tongue. Krysia had rarely had a moment to speak with Gwen where they could be sure no one could hear, and they were both trying to find excuses to get into the cells, but so far, they'd been unsuccessful.
"You think?" Morgana said bitterly. "The knights do not share your view."
"The knights take an oath," Krysia whispered. "You know how difficult it can be to unbind an oath of that kind, whatever they're faced with. Uther was not a fool. He chose the leaders of his men well."
Morgana sniffed and said, "I need their allegiance. Without that, the people will not yield to me."
Krysia looked at Gwen who paused, thoughtful.
"My mother was a maid in Sir Leon's household," she said slowly. "As was Krysia. We all grew up together. We could speak with him, try to make him see sense. You know he would do anything for Lady Krysia."
Krysia's neck went hot, but Morgana brightened. It could be so difficult sometimes to tell who was lying and who was telling the truth anymore.
"You would do that for me?" Morgana said.
She looked at Krysia, who was still silent. Finally, Krysia said, "Gwen lost her father. I lost my whole family. In a way, Leon also lost his father and brother to Uther. He is loyal, but he does not follow blindly. There may yet be a way to reach him."
"Yes, of course," Morgana said, softening slightly. "You too have suffered."
"Let us meet with Sir Leon," Gwen pressed.
"I will arrange it," Morgana said, smiling.
Krysia stood, barely daring to believe their luck.
"Thank you, your majesty," she said, as Gwen did. Gwen bowed, but Morgana just took Krysia's hand and smiled, squeezing it lightly.
Krysia followed Gwen out into the corridor and the two exchanged a look. Their plan was unfolding, but Krysia couldn't shake the feeling that it was all going too smoothly.
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Leon almost didn't look up when the door was opened to his cell, but when he did, he startled to see Gwen and Krysia there, Krysia looking solemn and beautiful in a green velvet gown with a green and gold belt, embroidered in a pattern after her father's crest.
He shook his head at the sight of Krysia and said, "No, you're not real."
She frowned and said, "Leon, what are you talking about?"
"I'm not playing this game, Morgana!" he said, and Krysia's eyes widened. "You can cease your illusions. Krysia would never…never…"
She was approaching him in small steps, but she wasn't vanishing in the puff of smoke like the earlier illusion. Leon stumbled back, kicking up straw as he tried to shrink away from her, from the temptation of the illusion.
"Leon, it's me," she said, reaching out when his back hit the wall. He squeezed his eyes shut, begging silently for this to end.
Her hand was warm when it touched his skin, soft and delicate and perfect. He hesitated, but he knew Morgana could alter her illusion, certainly. Perhaps she realized that coldness was too distracting, too disrupting…
"What happened?" Krysia whispered.
When had she gotten so close? How did this illusion so perfectly capture that gentleness Krysia sometimes had, like she was speaking to an injured child.
"You're not real," he whispered desperately. "You're not real. You're not her."
"I swear I am," she said, and her voice sounded almost heartbroken. This illusion was much better than the first. She took his hands, and he didn't fight and she lifted them to her face. He opened his eyes, feeling the smooth, soft skin as she traced his fingertips up. He stared into her eyes, seeing all the little flecks in the irises that he had memorized. And when he touched her scalp, disturbing her hair he could smell that lightly floral scent that was only her.
He inhaled in a painful gasp, pulling her close and hugging her. She was real. Somehow, miraculously, this was really Krysia standing before him. Gwen looked sad as she came up and gave him a small bit of food.
"It's all I could get," Gwen said when Leon took the food, reluctantly letting go of Krysia.
"I don't understand," he said. "What are you doing here?"
He began to eat the food, and Gwen hesitated, only speaking when Krysia nodded.
"Morgana sent us…to talk to you, to make you see sense." Leon spat out the food in his mouth. "No, listen to me."
"Leon, please," Krysia said softly.
"I'd rather starve," Leon said. "Guard!"
"Listen to me," Gwen said, lowering her voice. "We're going to help you escape." She turned to the approaching guard. "It's alright. Get us some water. The queen has instructed us to get the prisoner food and water."
Leon sat silent until the guard was gone.
"You know what will happen to you if you're caught," he said, touching Krysia's face. He couldn't help himself, he just kept thinking of her as the small child, or the young woman trembling before Uther while she was interrogated. She certainly knew what it felt like to be trapped, and he knew how painful it was to see her in that mess.
"That doesn't matter," Krysia whispered, touching his hand. "We're going with you. We need to try to get to Arthur."
Leon hummed, picking up the bit of food again.
"I have a good idea where he'll be hiding," he said.
"Then we need to get you out of here," Gwen said.
"How?" Leon said. "It's impossible, surely."
"Gwen is Morgana's trusted servant," Krysia said, almost dismissive of his concern. "And I am a valued member of court. Morgause has the cell keys in her chambers. I can just—"
"Krysia, no, please," Leon said, feeling the panic rising in his throat.
She touched his face again, and for a wild moment he thought she might kiss him. Instead, she smiled at him sadly and said, "Trust me, Leon. Please. We're going to figure this out."
Almost as quickly and silently as they came, once the water arrived, they were gone again, and he sat on the straw, staring at the wall, terrified that he was about to lose her.
A/N:
To Tatysantannag: Soon, I promise! Leon & Gwaine are going to be in the same space soon. Gah, I'm so excited to finally have this particular chapter set coming out. These interactions have been boiling in my brain for months, so the musings coming to life is really exciting!
-C