The wind ruffled his sleeves as he tightened his grip on Pride's reins. The horse trotted on unhurriedly, following along the knights leading the group ahead of them, oblivious to the turmoil currently plaguing her rider's mind.

Merlin kept his gaze forward, ocean eyes honed on the subject of his wayward thoughts. Lancelot has been resolutely avoiding him for the past few weeks. It had been jarring, to say the least, to go from being as close as they were to this distant, unspoken conflict hanging in the space between them.

He understood, he truly did. He knew that being close to him, and witnessing the things he went through, would be tough on anyone. He just- he got used to Lancelot always being there. It seems that he had taken the man's presence for granted.

His heart clenched at the mere thought of continuing as they were. Of never getting back the seamless connection they had cultivated over the years. The bone-deep trust, the kinship, the care, and dare he say, the love.

"What's all this gloom and doom," Elyan's voice cut through his thoughts like a dagger, pulling him out of his reverie as he hefted his position straighter and looked to the right, meeting the man's dark, amused gaze. "Really Merlin, you seem troubled, don't you think so, Gwaine?" The knight addressed his fellow with a quirk of his head, shoulders lowering as said man, didn't grace him with an answer. "Oi, Gwaine!"

"Ah, sorry," Gwaine fumbled with his reins, having jumped as if startled out of his own contemplation, which, now that Merlin thought about it, wasn't at all like the man's usual behavior on exertions such as these. "Were you talking to me?" His gaze shifted over them, never quite meeting his eyes.

"Oh never mind, you're worse than he is!" Gwaine entire demeanor changed, morphing as if to pull a veil of normalcy over his own frayed mask.

"If you sought to hear a tale of my most harrowing adventures, you just had to ask, my dear Elyan. No need for such accusations, my friend." His arm stretched out dramatically, the other resting on his chest as if to recite a poem, right then and there.

His eyes somehow didn't match his words.

He was resolutely ignored.

"I'm just thinking about the villagers I'll be treating." Merlin eluded, the lie sliding easily through his teeth. "I don't want to let Arthur and Gaius down, you know?"

"It's your first assignment as an active physician, is it not?" At his nod, Elyan continued, voice soft yet firm. "I'm sure you'll do just fine."

"Of course he will!" Gwaine interjected, his voice lacked any merriment despite the smile that stretched his face. "You have a lot of tricks up your sleeves, after all, right Merlin?"

Oblivious to the meaning in his friend's pointed words, Merlin absentmindedly chuckled, eyes still trained on Lancelot. "Right."

____________________________

In the dimly lit chamber, shadows danced along the worn wooden floor, weaving intricate patterns of light and darkness as Merlin moved with purpose around the village infirmary. His eyes alight with determination yet veiled in a shroud of uncertainty as he examined the patients lying on the cots in front of him.

Gwen stood by his side, a steadfast pillar, her presence a calming balm amidst the storm of illness that raged within the room. Her gentle hands offered quiet aid as he flitted through the automatic steps of diagnosis and first aid.

Gwaine lingered nearby, his usual bravado tempered by the solemnity of the moment. His eyes darted restlessly, betraying the turmoil within as he grappled with himself. He knew he was hovering, and yet he couldn't bring himself to move. He'd resolved himself to observe Merlin.

As Merlin began his examination, a hush fell over the room, broken only by the soft murmur of whispered prayers and labored breaths. With each patient he attended to, he tried to bring forth his magic, only to be deterred by the stares he could feel at his back. He needed to wait until he was alone.

Lancelot, as if reading his thoughts, suddenly appeared like the angel he truly was, wordlessly understanding what Merlin needed, even now. The knight swiftly and effectively distracted the room's occupants, calling their attention to something happening outside. And therefore, giving Merlin the opening he needed.

Each failed healing spell sent a wave of dread through his body. The diagnosis was a puzzle to be solved, a riddle whispered on the wind by unseen forces. Merlin's brow furrowed in concentration as he sought the elusive truth hidden within the depths of the affliction, his mind a beacon of clarity amidst the swirling mists of uncertainty. This was no normal illness.

"Any idea what this might be?" Gwen asked tentatively once they had all stepped back into the tent, watching Merlin intently for his answer. As if he held a secret of great importance.

Looking toward the Village elder, he cleared his throat once, uneasy as he spoke. "I believe that this is no mundane illness."

"Are you suggesting magic?" The man caught on fast, thankfully. At his nod, he continued. "I was afraid it might be. It was too sudden to be anything else."

"We need to take my findings to Gaius as soon as possible," Merlin explained softly, with no little amount of urgency. "Only he could help with this kind of situation."

"Of course." And so, they packed up and left again for Camelot.

__________________________

The ground scraped against his side as he was pushed. Skin tearing with the friction as he put his hands behind him at the last moment, softening the fall. Leon towered over him, looking larger than life as he loomed over him menacingly. His usually calm gaze hardened and hazy with hatred.

Behind him, Lamia smirked with satisfaction, her eyes flashing a sickly yellow as she lifted her gaze up and away from her prey. It was then that something seemed to click in Merlin's mind. A connection he'd been unknowingly putting together ever since they rescued the women earlier that day.

"You would do well to know your place, Servant."He walked away with one last scathing glare, joining Elyan, who had been offering Lamia a sip from his wineskin with soft-spoken words.

"Are you alright, Merlin?" Gwen, the only one who'd managed to retain her sanity, asked in a worried tone, already crouching to help him to his feet. "I don't know what the matter with them all is, it is simply not like them." She continued a little desperately, watching as her brother fawned over the women they had just barely met. Even going as far as to overlook their urgent mission.

"You're right. It's not." He'd been avoiding looking Lancelot's way, afraid of what he might find if he gazed into the man's gentle eyes. Frightened of the hatred he would find within them if he did so. Maybe even of the hint of sincerity he would expect to discover in their depth.

The rest of the day was spent similarly. It was as if a veil of aggression and violence was slowly being drawn over the knights, slowly overlapping everything that made them, well, them...

Merlin couldn't be sure of Lamia's intentions, at least, not until the unthinkable happened.

Gwen's shrill scream resounded within the field, echoing long after the sound left her mouth. It made his heart leap in his chest as he feared the worst, already running to follow the noise.

Finding Elyan lying there, a perfect mirror of the villagers he had treated the day before, only cemented his suspicions. Not a single doubt in his mind, as he looked at the perpetrator, slithering within their own campsite.

Lamia was being comforted by Gwaine, her body trembling in what appeared to be fear but couldn't be anything other than satisfaction and excitement. Her eyes shone with power as she burrowed her head into the knight's neck, seeking his warmth, and most likely, his life force.

Merlin shuddered in disgust, feeling ice creep into his veins at the mere thought. His magic itself was protesting as if warning him against the anomaly existing within his vicinity. An aberration of nature.

It only seemed to get worse from there. The snake led them right into its trap, deep within the ruins of an abandoned castle. The grounds themselves seemed to be encased in the scent of death and decay. This fact was only heightened by the skeletons and skulls that cracked beneath their feet the further they ventured into her nest.

Percival shoved him against a wall as he tried once more to warn them against trusting the monster, his breath falling out of his lungs as his ribcage vibrated with the force of the man's immense strength. His eyes darkened as he threatened him with something more than a backache before shoving into him and walking away.

Lancelot lingered a step behind them, surveying the scene with bored disinterest, his apathy felt like a blow harsher than anything else he'd been subjected to during the past few days.

Merlin, unable to bear looking into those inert, indifferent eyes, hurried to follow the rest, hoping beyond anything that this nightmare would be over soon.

"Listen to me, will you?" He later on begged as Gwaine got ready to follow Percival and Leon in their search for Lamia. The woman had disappeared shortly after leading them here, most likely intent on cornering her prey individually, in order to savor them to the best of her abilities. "Going out there will only put you in more danger, alright? Lamia isn't what you think she is!" He pleaded, standing bodily between the man and his destination.

His efforts were rewarded with a searing heat, the torch Gwaine had been holding was shoved right into his face, heat searing into his eyes as he felt some of his hair catch on the edges of the flames.

His vision blurred momentarily, and he doubled over as a force suddenly burrowed into his guts. "You're one to talk, Merlin." He spat his name as if it were made of venom, disgust, and loathing radiating off his features. Merlin's knees buckled as another blow took his legs out from under him. His knee jerked with pain as he stumbled to the ground. Magic surged of its own will before he stifled it back to its well-kept confines. He would not hurt his friends. "Accusing her of lying and deceiving everyone... How novel." He sneered, something deeper lurking in his gaze, so sincere that Merlin needed to remind himself that this wasn't his friend. He was being controlled, he was enchanted, that was all. Gwaine tsked, looking at him like he was the lowest dirt beneath his boots, before finally taking off into the darkness.

Gwen who'd watched the interaction with nervous eyes helped him get up, shooting him a look of painful sympathy before following after the knight. Probably intent on making him see sense.

It wasn't until he turned that he realized that he wasn't alone. Lancelot watched him intently from his place near the makeshift fire they had scrounged up. Eyes as cold as they were the last time he'd gazed into them.

With slow, lethargic movements, the man stood up, taking a few steps until he was standing right in front of the Warlock. Despite the urge to turn away, he felt drawn to the man's dark stare, feeling as though looking away would mean losing something important.

He was so close, Merlin could feel his breath trickling down his forehead.

It felt wrong, to look at him and see none of the safety and warmth he had always associated with the knight. Wrong to feel his magic fight against the aura surrounding the man as if his powers themselves rebelled against the shade standing before him. A shadow of the man he cared for.

"He's right, you know." Lancelot's voice was soft still, despite the malice dripping from his words. He took a step closer, his eyes digging into ocean blue as if peeling away layer after layer of everything that made him himself. "You are so blinded by your lies and secrets, you can't even tell you're drowning yourself." The silky tenor would soothe him if his words weren't meant to stab into him, burrowing into his very heart and burying themselves there. "Maybe I should give you what you want." He continued as if discussing the weather. His hand tightened on his sword before painstakingly slowly, he drew the blade out of its scabbard.

He fought the urge to flinch as screeching metal reverberated in his ears, rivaling the sound of his racing heart. He suddenly felt as if the breath had left his lungs, deserted him along with any sane thought. "What you so dearly yearn for."

"Do it, Lancelot." Lamia hissed, her sudden appearance startled him, making him realize that he'd been holding his breath the entire time. Ice washed over his veins as he realized the meaning of Lancelot's words. "He is unimportant." She was closer now, moving fluidly within the shadows of her domain. "He is nothing, compared to me." Pain flared in his side, so intense his vision bled into white for a moment. He grunted, holding a hand towards its origin, feeling cold metal and wetness seeping through his fingers. Blank dark eyes stared right into his soul before the blade got wrenched harshly out of him, pulling at his insides painfully in the process, making him choke on his own blood. Red splattering across his chin.

"L-lancelot." His voice caught in his throat, sounding far away. The haziness seemed to flicker and fade as his words reached the man's ears.

"Merlin?" He whispered, as if waking up from a dream, confused and disoriented. "Wh- Merlin?!" He sounded distressed but Merlin couldn't tell anymore. At least, he thought, the man finally sounded like himself. He could feel it, the moment the knight noticed the sullied blade within his grasp, dripping with Merlin's blood, staining his hands in crimson liquid. "w-whave I done?"

Merlin tried to smile reassuringly, but the intense pain and the blood seeping through his teeth must have painted an ugly picture.

The knight was thrown by an invisible force before he could utter another word. Lamia having grown bored with the weak, and so very human display in front of her. Reminding himself that Lancelot was still breathing, he stifled the urge to run towards the man.

"You won't get away with this." He directed at the monster, who by now, had shed her disguise, no longer having any use for her pretty human skin. Green scales shining in the light as she morphed right before their eyes, her shadow expanding along with her form. As if eating away at the light, devouring everything in its wake.

"You're magic is no match for me, Emrys." It hissed, yellow eyes narrowing along with the static in the air. He could feel her power tightening like a noose around his neck, pushing him against the wall by its invisible force. "I could have killed you anytime I wished to."

"You underestimate my power, Lamia." He muttered, feeling his own power bubble to the forefront of his mind, the energy boiling right beneath his skin, screaming to be let out. "You should have never hurt my friends." Gold illuminated his eyes as his magic surged and he pushed, knocking her against the opposite wall with little effort. Feeling her power wane and dwindle instantly. With one more motion of his hand, fingers forming a fist, he'd crushed the remaining life force flowing through her veins.

Blowing out a breath, he let his body crumble down, sliding against the wall until he was sitting on the cold, hard ground.

"Merlin!" Gwen's voice sounded muffled as it approached from somewhere to his left, and he barely spared a moment to feel relieved. He'd been worried when Lamia showed up alone. "Lancelot! Merlin!" More voice joined in, but Merlin's body had already shut down.

Consciousness bled away from him, as the last thought plaguing his mind was of his friend's angry words, resonating again and again in his head.

He hoped he'd forget about all this when he woke up.