Thanks to those who have reviewed again. I really hope you are enjoying it.

Merlin came back to consciousness again and felt an overwhelming empathy for Arthur who had been knocked out more times than Merlin could count. He was started to know what that felt like. His head felt like it had been cracked open and then hastily sewn back together again. He could feel the blood on the back of his neck from what he could only assume was a nasty looking head wound.

He also noted that this time he was not face down in the snow but actually propped up against a cold, damp stone wall with no clue as to where he was. There were no windows, the room was only lit by torches.

It was difficult to make out his surroundings at first, his vision was blurry and the point where his head had hit the ground was throbbing greatly. In fact all his wounds were making themselves known in the most painful way. The run had not done him any good at all.

It was a grand room, very ornate and a lot like the throne room in Camelot with a grand chair placed in the middle of the floor on a pedestal. Merlin had been placed to one side, next to a wall. He now realised why as he studied the shackles on his wrist and the points where the chains attached to the stone. The whole room was stone, dark stone like granite or some kind of black marble in places. The room had windows but they did nothing to illuminate the space. The glass had been covered in ice, or maybe it was ice. It was cold enough in here. Merlin watched his breathe form in front of him as he took short and sharp gasps. His ribs were hurting him again, he obviously hadn't done a perfect job with his healing spell. He sat and wondered if he should try and escape or just wait for his captors.

He didn't have to wait long before the grand double doors at the end of the room and a very tall and very beautiful woman glided through.

They were always beautiful, weren't they?

She was pale and slim, the gaunt features of her face stuck out at all angles but her cheekbones and full lips gave the impression of her once being an even greater beauty. Hers eyes now held a few wrinkles and her hair hung limply. It was long and white-blond hair that flowed over her shoulders and to her waist. Her eyes were ice blue like the wolf's at her side.

She wore a crown made of diamonds and was dressed regally. Merlin could only assume that she was a woman of great importance or had been once. Everything about her seemed dull and worn. She regarded him closely then crossed the room to stand in front of him.

"Who are you?" she asked sternly

"Who are you?" he asked back

The wolf at her side growled fiercely at him and he noticed it was his old friend, the scarred and scrawny alpha.

"Peace," she commanded and the wolf calmed down. "My pets have brought you to me, they seem to think that you would be of value. They say you have magic. Is it the same magic I have been sensing recently in the area? How much power do you have?"

"How much magic?" Merlin said confused

"Yes boy!" she snapped infuriated "Are you the source of the powerful magic I have been feeling?"

She began to pace and stamp across the stone floor in a frustrated pace.

"Why?" Merlin asked. He didn't get a very good feeling from this woman, she seemed crazed and not in total control of herself. "What do you need it for?"

"Winter!" she shrieked as if it was obvious "We must have winter. I need the winter,"

Arthur and the knights had reached the camp where Gwaine and Merlin were attacked. The bodies from the attack were covered in a thin layer of snow now and there was no sign of the fire that had been there before. It had started to snow the night before and Arthur and his men were growing tired. He had set a demanding pace and through the difficult terrain and this had been tough work for the knights and their horses.

But he wasn't going to stop now.

"Which way did he run?" Arthur turned to Gwaine.

He was half on his horse. The man was deathly pale and his eyes had glazed over slightly with pain. Percival had positioned his horse next to him just so he could give a steadying arm to his friend.

"Sire, he needs rest," he said on Gwaine's behalf even as the other man tried to wave off his concern.

Arthur looked at Gwaine grimly and nodded his consent.

Percival immediately dismounted to help Gwaine do the same. The rest of the knights followed suit and started unwrapping rations to eat quickly while Arthur remained on his horse.

"Ten minutes, sire?" Gwaine said from where he had fallen to the floor with exhaustion. "We'll move again soon,"

Arthur dismounted and made his way to one of the bodies on the ground. He studied it carefully; the man looked wild even in death, with a thick matted beard and hair. He didn't look like he had slept under a roof in all his life.

"Do you know where they had come from?" he asked Gwaine.

"Their howls had followed us all the way from Camelot. We just assumed they were normal wolves that had been driven closer to people in desperation to find food," he said solemnly.

"They have claws for fingernails," Leon said looking at another body.

"These bodies were all wolves when I left," Gwaine said uneasily

"The magic is still present even after death?" Arthur said disgusted. These men had obviously been corrupted by magic in life, would it not leave them to rest when they died? Would the evil of magic even follow them into the afterlife?

"It seems that way…" Gwaine said ominously.

Arthur turned hesitantly away from the dead man and looked towards Gwaine. He was collapsed on the floor and panting gently. His wounds were obviously affecting him greatly as he clutched the arm that was in a sling against his body. Percival was bringing a water pouch to his lips every so often, encouraging him to drink. Gwaine closed his eyes and put his head back.

"Gwaine, you are not to go any further." Arthur ordered "Percival, will you stay with him until we return?"

Percival nodded but Gwaine sat up to argue. It was a movement that he regretted instantaneously as he turned to his side and threw up what little food he had eaten that day.

Arthur felt guilty and suddenly very concerned for his knight. His concern grew tenfold when Gwaine opened his eyes and ice blue orbs stared back at him.

All the knights kicked into action, taking a step back from their friend and drawing their swords in defence.

"It's only a bit of vomit guys," Gwaine said confused and hurt.

Arthur relaxed a bit and Percy went back to the other man's side.

"No, Gwaine… it's your eyes," Arthur began but didn't quite know how to finish. It was not something that could be easily explained

"My eyes?" Gwaine said puzzled. His blue eyes anxious, passing his gaze from man to man looking for reassurance. As they passed over Arthur for a final time he felt a shiver pass over his spine. "What do you mean?"

Then Arthur spotted something else. "Gwaine, show me your teeth," he ordered

"What?"

"Just do it,"

Gwaine pulled back his lips in a grotesque smile. Every one of his normally white and immaculate teeth had become pointed and sharp. They were, of course, still white and immaculate. It was Gwaine after all.

From the group intake of breath, Gwaine knew something was definitely wrong and slowly ran his tongue over the front of his teeth.

"My teeth?" he whimpered "They're a lot pointier than they are meant to be, aren't they?"

Arthur nodded slowly then started to pace as he thought of what to do. They couldn't leave him here now. They couldn't leave him to get gradually taken over by this curse. But they couldn't really take him with them either. What if he changed completely and went against them? What if he killed them all?

"Do they still look alright?" Gwaine asked and Percival chuckled beside him. "I'm serious. I'm very concerned about dental hygiene,"

Arthur smiled. It seems they hadn't lost Gwaine yet.

"Right, Gwaine. Listen to me carefully," Arthur said suddenly and crouched down in front of his knight. "Everything is going to be alright. We're going to find out how to help you but you need to keep hold of yourself. Fight this curse, keep true to yourself and keep true to your friends. We will take you with us and help you,"

"You have my undying loyalty, sire," Gwaine said gravely but Arthur could hear the twinge of fear sneak into his voice.

"Hold in there," Arthur patted the man on the shoulder "Now, which way did Merlin run? If I know Merlin he will have run right into the heart of the trouble,"

Gwaine pointed downhill and Arthur motioned for the group to remount. He nodded towards Percival and a silent understanding passed between them. Percival would be on Gwaine-watch for the rest of this quest.

They travelled downhill all the way to the frozen river. Arthur made the decision to go downstream out of instinct more than anything else. It was only a few minutes before he came to a patch of ground that had been greatly disturbed. It had obvious signs of a scuffle with snow disturbed and earth distressed and mixed with the ic.. He jumped down from his horse and brushed at the thin layer of snow with his glove.

Blood.

He cleared some more of the new snow.

A lot of blood.

Arthur swallowed back the lump it brought to his throat. Could someone survive losing this much blood? He didn't really know. He brought a hand to his mouth and rubbed his chin in thought. There was still no trace of a body. He had to cling to this one hope.

"Merlin is stronger than he looks, sire," Elyan said, startling Arthur out of his reverie.

"I know," he was shocked to hear his own voice crack as it did. If Merlin wasn't dead then he was obviously gravely injured. He hated thinking about his most loyal friend suffering this alone. Dying alone. "Come on, we'll go further downstream. There's more evidence of animal tracks continuing onwards."

For the rest of the day they followed the river downwards until they had to stop when the sun abandoned them.

They cleared the snow away from a group of trees and made camp.

Gwaine had grown very silent since passing the pool of blood upriver. Arthur knew he must be feeling a lot of guilt for leaving Merlin, Percival had taken it upon himself to keep the other man talking as much as possible, which was difficult for Percy as he wasn't the most talkative of people in the first place.

Arthur made his way over to them and quietly asked Percy to leave them.

"How are you doing?" he asked Gwaine once Percival had left.

"I've been better…" he grimaced, panting with the pain. His ice-blue eyes were bright in the dark but the bite on his neck was dark and foreboding in comparison. He moved to clutch at his injured arm and Arthur unhappily noticed his fingernails for the first time. Claws.

"Are you still with us?" Arthur probed.

Gwaine concentrated on the concerned look on Arthur's face and frowned. "I can tell it's changing me now," he said dejectedly "I keep getting thoughts…"

"What kind of thoughts?"

"I'm very hungry," he growled deeply and Arthur had to consciously stop himself from moving away in alarm.

"What else?"

"I am getting urges to go somewhere in the mountains," he said. "Arthur, I think the other wolves are calling to me,"

"Stay with us, try to ignore these thoughts,"

"It's difficult, sire," his breath hitched as he shifted his weight.

"You're going to be alright,"

Percival returned with water and Arthur left them both to return to the rest of the men by the newly made fire.

"Sire?" Leon approached him questioningly with evident concern for Gwaine.

"He's not good," Arthur murmured to him.

"What will you do?" He asked

"We are not going to do anything," Arthur sighed "We are going to let him lead us to the wolves,"

Merlin was dragged forcefully by his shackles through the corridors of what he now realise was a very old and ruined castle.

The woman had a vice-like grip on his chain and was not slowing down to wait for him to recover from his stumbles.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked as he tripped over his own feet. His shoulder was burning as she yanked his arms ahead of him violently.

"The stone of Boreas," she said "It is stored within these ancient walls. The power of the North Wind encased within a gem so brilliant and perfect that men have killed to possess it. But it's mine and only those with magic can command it,"

Her wolf rumbled beside her at the mention of the stone and turned to glare once more in Merlin's direction.

"These are its children," she said stopping suddenly to stroke the wolf fondly behind its ear. "Men without magic who were foolish enough to touch it. Trapped as animals but free to deliver winter to the world when the stone is activated,"

Merlin looked to the wolf with its icy stare. Trapped. He was trapped. For the first time Merlin saw sadness in its eyes. Behind the cold and the violence was a distressed soul.

"I command them now. They are my servants," she said and continued on down the corridor before she came to another set of double doors moving them swiftly aside with a wave of her hands. "But I need help,"

She moved aside so Merlin could look into the room. It was an octagonal chamber with a hole in its tall ceiling so that if it had been daytime the sunlight would have pooled onto the pedestal set in the dead centre of the room. As it was the moonlight was enough to give an mystical glow to the room. The power in there was obvious from the moment she had opened the door, it made the breath catch in his throat.

A sapphire the size of his fist was placed on top. Such a deep, beautiful blue in colour.

"It takes a lot of power to bring this winter and it has made me weak. It was never meant to be used for such a long time. I fear that if I continue it will be my end," she said sadly, her eyes fixated lovingly on the gem.

"And you want me to help you?" Merlin asked incredulously.

"You will help me," she spat at him venomously. "I could feel your magic, the more you used it, the more I had to have it,"

"I will never do anything to harm Camelot," Merlin said resolutely

"You will have no choice," she wrenched his chains so he fell forward into the room, the shackles cutting deeply into his wrists.

The breath escaped him as he fell to stone floor and his shoulder pulled painfully. He turned quickly to push her backwards but she was already on top of him. Before he could push her away, physically or magically, she was whispering a paralysing spell into his ear.

The effect was almost instantaneous as he lost each muscle in his body all at once. For a sickening moment he thought his heart would stop beating and his lungs would stop breathing but they were left mercifully intact. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move.

He fought the spell within his body and his magic began repelling it. The woman seemed to realise that this would not hold him for long and her ultimate goal was soon revealed. She took his limp body and made him kneel in front of the sapphire like some kind of sick puppet. She then placed his hands carefully on the stone.

The paralysis was gone as soon as his skin touched the cold surface.

And he could not pull his hands away. It seared and burned his palms so that the skin blistered and stuck to the smooth surface of the stone.

It burned and he cried out in anguish.

He reached for his magic to free himself but it was being drawn into the stone, weakening him.

"Yes!" the queen squealed in delight behind him. "You have great power!"

Snow started to billow through the hole in the ceiling, coating Merlin and the stone. The energy was being sapped right out of Merlin. His magic was being ripped from him, the warmth it gave him was being channelled into the stone at an alarming rate and he tried to strive off the faint feeling that was clouding his mind. He could feel the blackness begin to consume him and he fought to stay awake.

"Yes, sleep sweet boy," the queen ducked down next to him and stroked his face and hair affectionately "Sweet, powerful boy. The sleep will help,"

She pulled his chin up so he could look into her eyes. Her crazy wide eyes. She kissed his forehead but he didn't have the strength to jerk away even though he wanted to with every fibre of his being.

"Sleep, my pet," she purred.

He couldn't help it. The slumber overcame him and drifted slowly into an entranced oblivion.

The blizzard had been fierce and unrelenting in the night. The men had to take cover in a nearby rock formation as the wind began to pick up. It was sheltered enough to get them through the worst of the night but the men were disheartened and frozen in the morning.

The only one who did not appear to be shivering was Gwaine who had even started to look a lot better as the night continued on. He was standing on his own, without the support, his face meeting the biting wind as it whipped around his body.

He seemed to be a lot stronger, Arthur would've mistaken him for a fully healed healthy man if the bite-mark on his neck had not contrasted greatly against the pale skin of his neck. It was if something had simply poured the life back into him.

"Gwaine?" Arthur called out to him. He approached cautiously. Gwaine didn't turn to address him.

"Gwaine," Percy tried, also noticing the sudden change in his friend. He stepped closer than Arthur had dared to.

All the men stopped what they were doing when a low rumbling growl emanated from deep within Gwaine's chest. Kay and Geoffrey drew their swords in anticipation. The sound of them being unsheathed stirred Gwaine and he turned to stare darkly at them.

Arthur had never seen the knight look like this. The turmoil that was in his features, it fought between angry, scared, confused, lost. He wanted to reach out to his friend, look after his soldier as Gwaine had done for him so many times before. But the need to find Merlin held him back. And so the guilt consumed him. Could he really value one man's life so much higher than another? What kind of king did that make him? His knight needed his words and support but he stayed silent in the hope that his suffering would lead him to another man. One, his father would say, was far less important. Worth less than a knight. Although his father would never made Gwaine a knight in the first place.

"Stay with us Gwaine," Percival said calmly, stepping forward towards his friend.

Gwaine ceased growling and started to focus on Percival. He was clinging to the concern evident in Percival's voice, Arthur could tell. He almost thought Gwaine would snap out of it, hang onto his comrades like a rock in a stormy sea.

"Can you tell us what's wrong?" Percival asked slowly

Gwaine didn't respond, didn't react. It was a cruel waiting game. Waiting to see if he would turn on them or not. Run away or come back.

Percy stepped forward again so that if he wanted to he was close enough to touch Gwaine. He reached out a hand for his shoulder.

Arthur could see it happening before Gwaine even moved. He started in fear like a threatened animal, jumping away from the outstretched hand. Percival quickly withdrew it but it was too late. Gwaine had lost his focus, lost himself.

Percival was about to reach out again but Arthur stopped him

"Don't," he said

Percival's betrayed and astonished look was enough to haunt Arthur for a long time. Gwaine swiftly turned and ran from them. Quickly crossing the icy river, slipping only a couple of times and continued up the valley on the other side.

"Quick! Follow him!" Arthur ordered

They secured their horses and gave chase on foot. The other side of the valley was a lot steeper with rocky uneven ground. There were ancient paths cut into the sides of the hills but Gwaine was not heading for any of them.

He was a lot faster than he'd ever been before and Arthur and the knights were having difficulty keeping up with the demanding pace. Arthur despaired for Gwaine. The truth was that he had no idea what was happening to him and no idea how to help him. But he had somehow known that if Gwaine made this horrible transition into whatever it was, he would lead them to the answer to all of this. The cursed men and what happened to Merlin would be revealed.

Merlin. He needed to find him above all else. He knew he was still alive. Gwaine was going to lead them to him