A/N I know I know I haven't finished my other fics yet but I got stuck and have been doing bits of this so thought I'd post it so you at least had something to get your teeth into. This has now been beta'd by the lovely Doberler since my poor efforts to edit went rather badly. Blushes!

I don't own Merlin even now when I have made up so many new adventures for him and his friends. Sigh!

Screaming.

Chapter 1.

This council meeting was unutterably boring!

Merlin had a feeling Arthur only dragged him into this room to stand behind his king to make him suffer, not because he might become ragingly thirsty halfway through. He almost never had to refill Arthur's goblet, and so could not see the point in making him stand there, going out of his mind with the sheer tediousness of it unless Arthur was just trying to be a prat.

He had long since given up the perfectly rigid posture of the ideal servant in favour of leaning back against the pillar behind him. No one ever looked at him anyway. They were far too busy arguing about the riveting subject of road maintenance or harvest yields to pay any attention to him.

He leaned back a little further, the warmth of the late summer sun making the room a little stifling and inducing a brief lassitude to the warlock. He could feel his eyes drifting shut, the drone of the councillors' voices adding to the lethargy. He smiled to himself, just a small one. There would be hell to pay if Arthur did look his way, but at this moment he would savour the break and allow himself to rest a little.

Of course, it was not Arthur he needed to be wary of at that time, but little did he know it, until the pain came.

It was swift, and sudden. A searing burning agony that cut through his skull. Magic screeching across his senses like a wailing banshee as he fell to his knees, hands to either side of his head, as he fought to stay conscious. Someone somewhere was screaming; it took him a long time to realise it was him!

The blessed darkness, when it came, was a relief from the searing agony, his last thought one of worry for what this could possibly mean.

...

His councillors could argue the sun was black if they thought they could get away with it and have it benefit them.

There was no doubt in Arthur's mind these people just could not get along. They would kill each other rather than work together for the common good. Honestly, why had he kept them on? Honour to his father's memory, perhaps? For that matter, his father had been a shrewd man and didn't suffer fools lightly. Why had he kept them on?

He couldn't help his mind from drifting, nor his gaze. So when he noticed his servant start to droop in the heat of the afternoon sun out of the corner of his eye, he smirked to himself, imagining what he could do to him later as punishment.

And then Lord Huxbury asked him a question, a minor detail and easily answered, but that brought his attention away from his servant for just a few moments. Which is why his servant's collapse caught him severely unawares. The thump as he fell to his knees drowned out by the inhuman scream issuing from his throat as he clutched his head, leaning forward and almost touching the ground.

He was not the only one to have jumped a mile. Every man within the room had reacted to that sound. A torturous noise of animalistic pain. A noise that just as suddenly as it had started stopped as his servant went completely limp, quite obviously unconscious.

No one moved. They were all stunned into immobility; long minutes of immobility as they each tried to slow their pounding hearts and regain some semblance of calm until the door burst open, admitting not only the guards from the end of the corridor, but Sir Leon. The guards' pikes were at the ready, and Sir Leon's sword was waving threateningly until he noticed the only man down was Merlin. He reluctantly lowered his sword, and then sheathed it as he made his way over to the king.

"Sire, is everyone alright?"

"We're fine, Leon." Arthur knelt to examine his servant, turning him over to see crimson streaks dripping from his nose. He felt for a pulse. It was erratic and his already light skin had turned bloodless, making a gruesome contrast to the seeping nosebleed. "Call for Gaius. Something has obviously happened to Merlin."

"Let me guess: he just clutched his head, keeled over and started screaming, and then lost consciousness?" The breathless voice came from the open doorway, and the guards blocking the king's view moved, giving a perfect line of sight to his most disreputable knight.

"Gwaine?" Arthur looked up from the side of his fallen manservant in surprise at the knight, who was obviously dishevelled and panting. "How did you know?"

"He's not the only one. They've been dropping all over the citadel!"

"Not a random illness then? Some kind of attack?"

"Well as to that, there seems to be no rhyme or reason to who went down."

"We need Gaius a little more urgently than we anticipated. Hurry…"

"Sire," Gwaine's voice was grave, and the hairs on the back of Arthur's neck prickled with alarm. "Gaius was one of those affected. I was getting the salve for my shoulder when he went down. Thought he might have had a brainstorm or suchlike. It was as I was running here to inform you that we realised it was more wide spread than just the physician." Leon stepped around Gwaine.

"God!" Arthur rose slowly. "Right. Gather all those affected and place them in the hall we usually use for the infirmary. Grab as many helpers as you can. And Gwaine, see if there are any healers anywhere in the city willing to come. We need to find out what all the victims had in common."

Gwaine gave a swift salute and almost ran out of the door.

Arthur and Leon both glanced down at the fallen man. "Why does it always happen to you, Merlin?"

"Sire, perhaps you should not be so near the boy," one of the councillors stated. "What if it's contagious?" Arthur couldn't tell who spoke, though he wasn't particularly interested.

"He has a point, Arthur." Leon was all concern. Arthur could understand, even if he did feel irritated at the over protectiveness.

"If it were contagious, I doubt all those affected would have passed out all at the same time." He ran his hand over his eyes and down the side of his face, coming to rest on his jaw. "Will you take him to the hall, Leon? Then try to contain the panic that will inevitably ensue from this. I'll send some more men to help." Arthur turned to the councillors. "Gentlemen, I believe we need to reconvene." There were nods of agreement all around, each making their way toward the door to take care of whatever business this affliction may or may not have caused them.

Leon reached down and hauled the servant up and over his shoulder, almost fearful at how light he actually was. Arthur continued, "I'll be down as soon as I find Guinevere and make sure she's alright. She'll want to know what's happened, and her medical knowledge could come in very useful right now." Arthur's practical tone was hiding his turmoil and his panic. If this was an attack on the kingdom and he was fine, then perhaps Guinevere was one of those now lying unconscious on the floor somewhere? He couldn't move fast enough to make sure she was safe.

…..

Whatever had struck those down in the citadel had not been confined merely to that building. The city around the castle had also been affected, as had the lands surrounding it, and as Gwaine had pointed out there was just no pattern to who it had targeted. Especially since both royals were perfectly fine. If it had been an attack on Camelot, surely the royal family would have been the first to go. It made no sense.

Gaius and Merlin he could have understood if this had been some sort of odd illness. Their close quarters could have easily allow it to be passed from one to the other. But the other victims were as diversely spread as it was possible to get, and covered every class.

Three knights, one armourer, two kitchen girls, and one of the small spit boys; a dyer, a woodsman, three herders and several farmers, one with his pregnant wife and one with his teenage son; a village elder and several children all from different villages. Three of them were less than four years old. Most of the healers had been struck, several stable boys, a good few servants, and nine nobles, five of which were women, and one of whom was just six. And that was just in those villages and the city who had sought help from their king.

All had the same symptoms. They had all started screaming and then just fallen unconscious. And all had yet to wake. It had been a week, but none of the victims showed signs of succumbing to whatever had befallen them. They just seemed asleep. Sixty-three people just lying there, unresponsive. Not drinking, not eating; just breathing steadily in and out.

The rumour mill was rife; none of it credible or even mildly truthful. The only thing any of them had in common was the fact they all fell at the exact same moment and nothing had worked to revive them. And all knew that sorcery was the cause.

Arthur had sent patrols in every direction seeking either the responsible sorcerer or news of anything suspicious, but nothing turned up, save more sufferers. It was a mystery of the highest order. Arthur didn't think he could even call it an attack really, since no one had died. They were merely…unaware. If this was an attack, it was one of the strangest and most peaceful he had ever encountered.

Arthur stood with Gwen, arm round her waist as they surveyed their friend and his surrogate father, laid side by side in the makeshift infirmary, soft blankets and pillows making the straw pallets as comfortable as possible.

"What are we going to do?" Guinevere asked, anxiety practically radiating from her. "Nothing works. They live and show no sign they will die from lack of nutrients at being unconscious so long, but…just how long can they stay like this? They won't even take water. By all rights, they should be dead. The healers and herbalists who escaped it have never seen anything like it before."

"It's magic. It has to be. Some kind of spell or curse or something!"

"I know, Arthur. But if it is, what are we to do?" Gwen looked at her husband of two years. The strain on him was showing. He had never been without Merlin for so long before, and his interactions with everyone showed it. He was lost. He had never openly expressed his fondness for Merlin, nor Merlin for Arthur really, but it was obvious to anyone who looked now how much Merlin just lying there inanimate was affecting him.

"We need the druids." It was said so softly, almost as if he were talking to himself, making a long debated decision in his mind.

"Arthur?"

The king looked at his wife squarely, his eyes weary. Of all the people, she would understand the decision he'd come to, save Merlin and Gaius. He sighed. "Without Gaius's well of wisdom on matters such as these, we're running blind. Geoffrey is doing his best but he's never been the expert in the physician's craft that Gaius is, and he's never been a sorcerer. All our other senior healers are here." He indicated the rows of the fallen healers with his head. "We need the druids' medical training as much as their magical knowledge. I have no idea if they will even help us. We have pushed them away so long." He sounded so unsure, vulnerable. Looking down the long columns of sleeping people, their citizens, theirs to protect and yet here they were, needing help and being unable to have it.

"You haven't persecuted them since you took the throne. You promised them you would treat them with respect, which you have, and I know they have been buying supplies here before now. Perhaps they will come. You never know until you try." Arthur put his arms around his queen, hugging her like she was the only connection he had to this world.

"The council will not support me."

"Probably not. They haven't exactly been agreeable to a lot of the changes you've made since you married me. But know this, Arthur. The council is not everyone. Your knights will, the commoners will, and I will. This has affected all of us. Merlin and Gaius would both have given you their blessing."

Arthur huffed and smiled a little, pulling her into a deeper embrace as she confirmed his earlier thoughts. She was the perfect queen. "I know it. I will ride out tomorrow."

"And the council?"

"I rely on your good judgement as to how much to tell them."

"Merlin would call you a coward for giving the task to me." It was said with the same type of smirking grin Merlin would have given, and Arthur couldn't help feeling grateful she was still with him and hadn't been one of the mysterious fallen. He couldn't have stood to lose both his supports.

She moved away then to talk to those few physicians and herbalists they had found, and who could be persuaded to tend these people.

The king stooped slightly and placed one hand on Merlin's shoulder and the other on Gaius', squeezing them both ever so slightly, knowing they couldn't feel it, but needing the contact. "I will find a cure. We will get you back. You'll be back to polishing my armour in no time." The small aside to his servant would have earned a witty comeback at any other time. Now he was met with silence and the steady rise and fall of Merlin's chest. It was unnatural for his servant to be so still. Arthur hated it, hated the quiet, and George's respectful efficiency. Hated his calm, unruffled subservience, and the fact that Merlin's presence that had permeated every crevice in his life until now was just…missing.

The herbalists had known roughly where to find the druids. Their camps were more open and noticeable now since Arthur had given them their right to move freely through his kingdom. They had made their home at the farthest edge of the Darkling Woods, just on the border of Nemeth's lands and straddling the stream that marked the split between the two kingdoms.

It would take two days to travel to it even on horseback, but the herbalist hadn't known of any others that may have been closer. There seemed no hurry since the victims were suffering no ill effects other than being unconscious, but Arthur was determined to find help as soon as he was able. His honour and conscience demanded it.

Guinevere would hold the castle until Arthur returned and he had every faith in her abilities. She had come a long way from the stuttering serving girl Arthur first became aware of all those years ago, and he felt confident she would do an admirable job.

There had been much debate as to who would accompany the king. All the Round Table knights had wanted to be included. But Arthur had a feeling that would overwhelm the camps. They were after help, not give the impression of an invasion. Somehow if they all turned up, he had a feeling they would withhold any help they might have otherwise offered.

So Arthur had decided on only two knights to accompany him, but had ended up with a fight on his hands. Gwaine had told him in no uncertain terms he would not be left behind and Arthur did respect that, knowing Merlin and he were close. But Gwaine was not known for his tact or general diplomacy, so he had needed to bring Leon, as he was the only one apart from Merlin that the hothead seemed to listen to. He had tried to leave Elyan behind for Guinevere's sake, but she had insisted that he would be better placed with Arthur, as he had spent some time with the Druids when he had gone a wandering. After that, Percival would not be left behind, and so they all had ended up in his company.

It had been strange to say the least. No Merlin chattering away, Gwaine was rather silent in worry for his friend, and the rest all subdued as they had been since the malady had struck.

Merlin was their little brother. Their lucky charm! Everything seemed brighter and more optimistic when he was around. Without him, it was like the sun had disappeared behind a raincloud.