A/N: Thank you GuestM, Buckhunter, PadrePedro, pallysAramisRios, Hodophile-Sandhiller, and Guest for reviewing!


Chapter 3

Merlin rocked back and forth, more in growing agitation than an attempt to get his blood flowing. Lancelot was getting worse, his shivers lessening in intensity, which was not a good thing. Merlin periodically tried to wake him, but he was completely out of it now, cloudy eyes looking up at nothing before drifting shut again. They couldn't stay here any longer. Merlin was kicking himself for waiting this long. They should have headed back to Camelot the moment Lancelot had been injured.

He kept trying to think of a way to leave a message for Arthur at the campsite so he and Gwaine could start back. It'd be a difficult journey, and Merlin didn't know if Lancelot would make it. But what was the alternative? Merlin's magic wasn't working. They needed Gaius's knowledge and books and to get out of the snow.

The hairs on the back of Merlin's neck prickled, and he roved his gaze around the whitewashed scenery. He felt like they were being watched, but he couldn't see anything so maybe he was just on edge.

Gwaine went to get more firewood and Merlin tried once again to cast healing and warming spells on Lancelot, to no avail.

Then it started snowing. Only, the flurries weren't descending from the sky, but seemed to be swirling up from the ground. Merlin tensed and stood up, eyes peeled against the white and gray. A shout rang out from the direction Gwaine had gone, followed by an echo of steel.

Merlin cast a hesitant look at Lancelot before rushing to Gwaine's aid. But despite the sounds of an attack that he'd heard, the only scene he came upon was Gwaine half buried in a snow drift, arms and legs flailing as he tried to extricate himself.

"What happened?" Merlin exclaimed as he grabbed his hand and hauled him out.

Gwaine growled as he stumbled to his feet and brushed bits of snow off. "Those things jumped me." He snatched his sword up from the ground and whirled in search of them, but there was no sign of anyone else.

"Why would they just push you into a mound of snow?" Merlin wondered aloud. But then a dreaded feeling sank like a stone in his gut and his eyes widened. "Lancelot."

They both turned and bolted back to camp. The red cloaks lay in a pool by the fire, the person beneath them gone.

"Lancelot!" Merlin shouted, spinning in a circle.

"Why would they take him?" Gwaine asked.

Merlin had no idea. He frantically searched the area and spotted tracks. Lancelot's were clearly defined, and Merlin could make out the barest bootprints beside them. The fae may have been light of foot but they'd definitely been there.

"This way."

He and Gwaine hurried after their friend. Merlin couldn't imagine Lancelot would be able to move very fast, though he was amazed he seemed to be walking at all. Not struggling, though, from what Merlin could tell.

It didn't take long to catch up to them, and Merlin caught sight of Lancelot on his feet, being led into a cave by a group of the masked fae. Merlin's heart was pounding as he and Gwaine sprinted after them. Merlin didn't know what the fae wanted with Lancelot, but he doubted it was good. The Fae didn't exactly have a good reputation when it came to whisking mortals away, and Merlin hoped there wasn't a door to the Fae realm in there.

"We have to hurry," he told Gwaine needlessly.

Unfortunately, no sooner had they approached the cave entrance, Gwaine's sword raised at the ready, when they were abruptly surrounded by more of the masked figures, all armed with their own blades.

Gwaine faltered at the touch of metal on his shoulders, and he flicked a look at Merlin before grudgingly surrendering. Merlin gritted his teeth as they were both seized and manhandled into the cave.

Lancelot was just inside, standing on his own, unaided and unrestrained. His eyes were dull and cloudy and he didn't seem to be aware of anything happening around him.

"Lancelot!" Merlin called, hoping to snap him out of this mindless daze, but he didn't react. Even worse, that blue tint to his skin had spread up one side of his neck.

The fae warriors suddenly snapped to attention as a tall figure emerged from the back of the icy cave. Her skin was blue, though unlike her minions, her hair was black, as were her beady eyes. Ice crystals were woven through her hair like glittering diamonds, and her white gown rippled like silken snow. Her narrowed gaze settled on Merlin and Gwaine first.

"What are they doing here?" she asked sharply.

"They followed, my queen. Shall we dispose of them?"

She hummed thoughtfully. "They won't last long in our Court, but they might make good sport for a brief time." She then turned to Lancelot, canting her head in appraisal of him. "A fine choice," she remarked, moving closer.

She lifted a hand and pressed it over his shoulder where the arrow had pierced him. Lancelot went rigid, back arching slightly though he didn't make a sound as white frost bloomed forth from beneath his shirt. It crept up past the blue skin, branching across one side of his face like iced veins. His eyes were blown wide and unseeing.

Merlin struggled against his captors. "Stop it! Leave him alone!"

The Fae Queen snapped those beady eyes toward him, and Merlin felt a chill pierce his bones just from being under that glacial gaze.

He jerked against the hands holding him anyway. "What have you done to him?" he demanded.

The Fae Queen looked away, back toward Lancelot. "He is to be my new king." She moved her hand from his right shoulder toward the left side of his chest to hover over his heart. "His transformation will soon be complete."

Merlin's blood ran cold. "What transformation?"

She turned that beady gaze back toward him. "Mortals are too fragile to withstand the harsh environment of my Court. They must be changed from the inside." She brushed her hand back to Lancelot's wounded shoulder. "My special shard is seeing to that."

"We pulled the arrow out," Gwaine put in with a grunt.

She laughed, and it sounded like nails grating on granite. "Silly mortals. The arrow was only the means for implantation."

Merlin's breath stole from his lungs. No. He'd missed something; how could he have missed something? The arrowhead had been partially melted when they pulled it out, he'd just assumed there was nothing left inside…

"I can see you care for this one," the queen went on. "I think I will bring you back with us when his transformation is complete. You can celebrate his coronation before you die."

She gave a wave of her hand, and two of her minions stepped up to take Lancelot by the arms and lead him further into the caves.

Merlin struggled harder against the unyielding grips on his own arms. "Lancelot!"

Lancelot paused and looked over his shoulder, but his gaze was still vacant, and a simple nudge from his escorts got him moving again.

Merlin and Gwaine were dragged down another shaft to an alcove naturally formed in the cave wall and shoved inside. The fae warriors then held their hands out, and ice bars formed up from the ground to the ceiling, locking them in. The extra chill buffeted Merlin in the face, and he wrapped his arms around himself as his breath puffed out in thick white plumes. The fae left them there.

Gwaine kicked at the bars of ice, but they were too thick. He scowled and staggered back a step. "Okay, this is bad."

That was an understatement. Merlin could get them out of this makeshift cell, though. It would just mean revealing himself to Gwaine. His stomach always tightened when he found himself faced with such a dilemma, one he usually always found a way out of without having to actually cross that line. But there was no time in this instance. Merlin didn't know how much longer Lancelot had before his "transformation" was complete, but he knew that after that happened, there likely wouldn't be any coming back from it. He had no choice but to act now or risk Lancelot being lost forever.

Merlin took a breath and turned to Gwaine. "I can get us out."

Gwaine snorted. "Yeah? How?"

Merlin's throat went dry. "I have magic."

Gwaine's face scrunched up in confusion. "What?"

"I have magic. And I'm going to need to use it to save Lancelot. Just…please don't tell Arthur."

Gwaine continued to look at him as though he were being funny. Merlin, however, was coiled tight as a knot.

Gwaine shook his head. "You're serious?"

Merlin nodded and held a hand out toward the bars of ice, uttering a spell. One of the thick columns ignited with bright light from within, which quickly set to melting it, creating a gap large enough for them to squeeze through. Merlin glanced back at Gwaine, who was staring dumbfounded.

"We can talk after we save Lancelot," Merlin said, slipping between the bars.

Gwaine followed. "Yeah. Assuming we get out of this."

Merlin nodded stiffly and turned down the tunnel, but Gwaine snagged his arm.

"And if we do, your secret is safe with me."

Merlin felt a rush of short-lived relief, and he gave his friend a grateful nod before they set off through the caves in search of their friend. Despite Merlin's sense of urgency, they went cautiously. Gwaine no longer had his sword, which left just Merlin's magic as a weapon. One he was prepared to use in full force now.

There was no sign of the fae; they seemed to pull the disappearing act well. But he found Lancelot in a cold chamber with a high dome ceiling. He was laid out on a slab of stone like a sacrificial offering, left alone to complete his transformation.

Merlin rushed over and clasped the sides of his face, hissing at the frigidness in his flesh. "Lancelot. Lancelot!" he hissed, giving him a small shake.

But while his eyes were open, they were unseeing, and he was completely unresponsive. The blue tinge in his skin had spread further, making him look half fae already, and frost had crystallized on his eyelashes and lips.

Gwaine nudged Merlin aside so he could pull Lancelot up over his shoulder. But before he could, the fae warriors came charging in, swords drawn. Merlin thrust his hand out and uttered a spell that sent them all flying backward to slam against the cave walls. Unfortunately, fae were made of hardier stuff than regular old bandits, and they were quick to regain their feet. Merlin summoned fire and threw it at them with both hands. They shrieked and scrambled backward to escape.

But then a whip of ice came lashing through the air, striking the flames and instantly encasing them in ice. They fell to the floor and shattered into bits of glittering red and blue.

The Fae Queen strode forward, the temperature plummeting by her presence alone. She sent a blast of arctic wind at Merlin and Gwaine that tossed them away from Lancelot and sent them sliding across the icy floor into the rear wall.

Merlin grunted as he struggled to get up. Hoarfrost blossomed across the ground toward him, and he yanked his hand up before he could get bitten by it. It closed in around him and Gwaine, the chill instantly stiffening their limbs and slowing their movements as they fought to stand, pressing back against the cave wall as the ice descended on them.

The Fae Queen snarled at them. "It seems you two are more trouble than you're worth. My garden could use some new ice sculptures, though."

She drew her shoulders back, and Merlin didn't think it was possible for the air to get colder. He doubled over under the oppressive weight of it, every breath burning his throat. Gwaine choked and jerked, ice solidifying around his feet.

Then the queen threw her head back with a sharp gasp as a sword punched out her sternum. Merlin felt the heavy chill in the air abruptly dissipate. The blade was yanked out and the queen fell, and Merlin blinked in stupefaction to see Arthur standing behind her.

The fae warriors shrieked and lunged, but the other knights of Camelot came charging in behind their king to meet them head-on. The strident screech of steel resounded off the cave walls, along with the dying wails of the fae, who had apparently been weakened by their queen's death. It didn't take much for the knights to cut them down.

Merlin staggered forward across the slippery cave floor and asked incredulously, "What are you doing here?"

Arthur sheathed Excalibur. "We returned to camp and found you gone, so we followed your tracks." Obviously, weighed heavily in his tone. His mouth turned down as his gaze shifted to Lancelot.

Percival was the first to reach their friend laid out on the stone slab, his eyes blowing wide with horror. "Oh gods, is he…?"

Merlin hurried over. "Still alive. It's a long story, but the arrow that hit him was magical and apparently left a shard behind. It's been poisoning him." He pulled the collar of Lancelot's shirt down past his shoulder and tore off the bandages, ignoring the murmurs from some of the knights at the unearthly blue skin.

"Search the rest of the caves," Arthur ordered, dispersing everyone but the inner circle of Lancelot's friends.

Merlin pressed down directly on the wound as hard as he could. Sure enough, there was something very hard and foreign buried deep under the skin. Merlin wondered how Lancelot hadn't felt that this entire time, but perhaps that was part of the fae magic.

"I need to dig it out now," he said, looking up expectantly.

Elyan immediately handed him a knife. Percival laid his brawny arms across Lancelot's torso and legs to hold him down, and Leon stepped in to brace his head. But as Merlin pressed the blade into the wound for the second time in as many days, Lancelot didn't react at all or make a sound.

Merlin gritted his teeth and forced himself to make the cut wider this time. Lancelot's flesh was so cold that it didn't part easily, and Merlin had to use the flat of the blade to pry apart sinew and muscle. There were ice crystals inside the wound, which Merlin had to chip away with the knife. His own stomach churned at the unpleasant sensation of digging around in someone's flesh, let alone his friend, but he finally spotted a glowing blue embedded deep in the muscle.

Taking a breath, Merlin reached in to try to grab it. Tweezers would have been really helpful, but he had to make do. Lancelot's blood wasn't even warm and barely stained Merlin's fingers, as though it wasn't even flowing, and he tried not to worry about that. He picked up the knife again and used it to dig deeper, exposing more of the shard. He finally got a good grasp on it and managed to yank it out. Lancelot's breath hitched and he jerked slightly as the shard was extracted, but nothing more.

Merlin held it up between his fingers. It was a chunk of ice, or a crystal, with bright blue veins in the center. Merlin could feel the magic thrumming inside it, and he turned to throw it as far away from everyone as he could.

"You certain you got it all?" Gwaine asked.

Merlin swallowed hard and went to dig into Lancelot's shoulder once more. But he didn't see anything else. It was difficult to feel any smaller protrusions with how stiff his entire shoulder was. But the ice crystals that were frosting the inside of his tissues were suddenly beginning to melt, so Merlin took that as a good sign.

"I think so," he said.

And he hoped that was all that was needed to reverse this fae transformation and restore Lancelot to his fully mortal self.

The other knights returned to report that there were no more magical creatures about. It seemed they had slain them all.

Arthur nodded. "Let's get out of here."

Merlin used his neckerchief to hastily pack the mangled wound in Lancelot's shoulder until they reached a better place to properly tend it. Percival, Elyan, and Leon all removed their cloaks so they could wrap Lancelot up as securely and warmly as possible, and then Percival hefted the still unresponsive knight into his arms and they all made an urgent exit from the cave.