A/N: Huge thanks to my most excellent beta, sarajm, who listened to me moan and complain when I was having difficulty with this story. I've never written Merlin-whump this angsty before and was feeling very unsure; but the World's Best Beta was always there with excellent suggestions and confidence-boosting comments. Thanks, sarajm; you're the best!

The title comes from William Shakespeare's "Macbeth": Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break."

Chapter 1

In the dim twilight, the last of the flames from the funeral pyre sputtered and died, leaving only glowing embers in their wake. The only witness to their passing was a tall, lean, dark-haired young man who had been standing there all afternoon and into the evening, unheeding of the cold or the tears that flowed freely from red-rimmed eyes down thin cheeks.

Shivering slightly in the early evening chill, Merlin hunched his shoulders and crossed his arms, tucking his hands under his arms to try to keep them warm. Despite the evidence before him, he still was having a difficult time believing that Lancelot, his best and dearest friend, was gone, having crossed through the veil to repair the dark scar in the air wrought by Morgause and Morgana.

A hiss sounded as the last bits of steel of Lancelot's sword finally melted away, taking with them all evidence that the Knight had ever existed. Merlin was distraught and could not help but worry about what Lancelot was facing on the other side of the void. Was he alive or was he instead trapped in some nebulous state? Merlin's greatest fear was that his friend was being tormented by the dark shades that had so recently terrorized the land.

Guilt was eating away at Merlin's soul. Earlier he had stood, quiet and unassuming, at Arthur's side, listening to his prince's tribute to the fallen knight, hearing Gwen's confession that Lancelot's death was her fault, but he knew better. Lancelot had not died to save Camelot, nor had he died to ensure that Arthur returned to his beloved Guinevere; no, Lancelot had given his life so as to ensure that Merlin could live and fulfil his destiny. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right … but there was nothing Merlin could do to change the past. Instead, he would have to learn how to carry his grief and move forward along the path that the Fates had set for him.

As the embers turned from blazing red to cool amber, Merlin bowed his head and sent a quiet entreaty to the gods, asking that they look after his friend. With one last glance towards the pile of warm ashes sitting in the middle of the courtyard, the warlock finally turned away and with slow steps and a heavy heart, made his way towards the wide Griffin stairway.

Unbeknownst to Merlin, Arthur had spent the last fifteen minutes watching his servant from one of the windows at the top landing of that same staircase. Arthur had been glad to finally find his servant. He'd begun to worry when, hours after the ceremony had ended and everyone had returned to their duties, Merlin was nowhere to be found. He had seen how upset Merlin was, and while he knew that the lad wouldn't do anything stupid the Prince decided that, for his own peace of mind, he should try to locate his manservant. Gaius had been unable to provide any information and the knights, to a man, all said they had last seen Merlin standing at the edge of the courtyard. But as that had been several hours earlier, Arthur had been certain that he could not still be there.

He'd been relieved to have been proven wrong when, on rounding the corner of the landing at the top of the staircase, he'd spotted Merlin through one of the large windows. No torches had been lit outside, but the glow of the funeral pyre had provided enough light for Arthur to discern his servant standing tall and still, except for an occasional shudder from the cold, gazing at the pile of embers at his feet. Arthur had come to a standstill at that point, surprised to see Merlin standing so sombrely; he honestly could not remember the last time he'd seen the other man quiet for any length of time.

The prince had watched through the window, hesitant to interrupt his friend's grieving. However, on noticing that Merlin's shivering had increased, Arthur had pushed himself away from the window frame, intent on chivvying Merlin into the warmth of the castle. He was spared the need to take further action, as just then he saw the young man's shoulders rise and fall in a long and silent sigh. Merlin turned and plodded across the paving stones, finally reaching the stairs, presumably heading towards his shared rooms with Gaius.

Without moving from his place, Arthur watched his servant sluggishly make his way up the stairs, unheeding of his surroundings.

Arthur realized that Merlin was completely lost in his own grief, and so kept silent when the servant passed right by him without noticing. Arthur had lost many friends over the years and he understood how Merlin must be feeling. Ah, well, I'll leave him be tonight. He just needs a good night's sleep, thought Arthur. Once Merlin had disappeared into the corridor towards the physician's chambers, he turned and slowly headed towards the Great Hall.

The next morning, rather than the usual cheerful "Rise and shine, Arthur" accompanied by a waft of cool air as Merlin yanked the bedcovers down from where they were customarily tucked under Arthur's chin, the prince was instead greeted by a quiet cough and a rather intense, "Good morning, Sire."

Cracking open his eyelids, Arthur beheld the rather unwanted form of George standing at the side of the bed with a damp cloth in one hand and a goblet in the other.

"George? Where's Merlin?" asked Arthur as he sat up and wiped his face and hands with the warm cloth.

"Word was sent that Merlin is unwell, so I have been assigned to take over his duties for the day." George's words were accompanied with a look that indicated his disbelief that anyone would shirk their responsibilities simply because they were ill. "I have arranged your breakfast on the table and have placed your clothes behind the screen. Is there anything else you require of me?"

Waving his hand at the servant, Arthur responded, "No, thank you, George. I have a council meeting later this morning and I don't believe I will require your presence until lunchtime."

"Very good, Sire," answered George as he gave the room one final assessment and then headed towards the door.

"Actually, George, wait a minute. Do you know what's wrong with Merlin?"

"No, my lord. All I was told is that Gaius sent a message to the Steward advising of Merlin's illness and asking that someone else be assigned to assist you today. I was very happy to volunteer," responded George with a small smile.

"Ah, yes … um … thank you, George, for stepping forward." Rising from his bed and walking towards the table where a veritable bounty of food was laid out, Arthur added, "I'll see you later then."

With a bow, George departed. Arthur heaved a sigh of relief once the door closed behind the servant. It wasn't that he had anything against George, or that he didn't like the man; rather, Arthur had become used to Merlin's offhanded ways and now he was also worried about his servant. Merlin had been known to show up at Arthur's chambers coughing up a lung or running a fever, so the lad had to be very ill if Gaius was keeping him close.

Knowing that he had some spare time before the council was to meet, once he had finished his breakfast, Arthur dressed and made his way towards Gaius' chambers. A quiet knock on the battered wooden door, a gentle push and Arthur stepped into the room, hesitating in the doorway. The room was bright with the morning sun streaming in the open shutters and it created a pool of golden light on Gaius' worktable. The sun's rays glanced off the various bottles and vials on the table and created a multi-coloured mosaic on the floor.

Gaius was sitting at the far end of the table with a book in front of him, but on Arthur's entrance he looked up and gave the other man a smile.

"Good morning, Arthur. I'm surprised to see you here this early; is there something you need?" asked the elderly man.

"Good morning, Gaius," responded Arthur as he stepped further into the room. "Actually, I came to check on Merlin."

"Did you not get the message he was unwell?" asked Gaius with some concern. "I did send a note to the Steward for him to arrange for someone to take over Merlin's responsibilities for the day."

Arthur waved his hand negligently through the air and responded, "No need for concern, Gaius. George was extremely happy to advise that he would be serving me today."

At the disdain in Arthur's voice, Gaius let out a small chuckle. "Ahh, George is it?" he asked with an audible smirk.

"Yes, George," responded Arthur with roll of his eyes. "I have to head to a council meeting shortly, but I actually came by to check on Merlin." Not wanting to let Gaius know how worried he truly was, Arthur hemmed and hawed a bit before adding, "You know, just making sure he's not lolling around in bed looking for some pampering!"

Gaius smiled to himself; Arthur was fooling no one with his studied nonchalance. Gaius was quite aware of the feelings Arthur and Merlin harboured for each other. In fact, the physician was very pleased with the friendship that had developed between his prince and his ward; they honestly cared about the other's wellbeing and looked out for each other, in their own ways.

"Actually, Arthur, it seems that Merlin caught a chill yesterday. He finally showed up late yesterday evening, said nothing more than 'I'm for bed' and then went directly to his room. He was restless through the night and when I went to check on him, he had developed a low fever and was coughing slightly. I finally gave him a sleeping draught about two hours ago as he had remained awake throughout the night. I think with some sleep and rest today, he'll be much better by tomorrow."

Arthur's face fell as he listed to Gaius' tale. "It doesn't surprise me that Merlin's sick," he said. "I finally located him early yesterday evening standing in the courtyard. It seems he stayed out there all day, watching the funeral pyre burn itself out. And the idiot wasn't wearing the proper clothing for such an undertaking. He hadn't bothered to put on a warm jacket and by the time I found him, I could see him shivering even from where I stood!"

"He was outside all day?" asked Gaius with surprise. "Well, he certainly didn't mention that fact to me when he finally made it home yesterday. It's no wonder the lad is ill." Gaius shook his head sadly and decided that once Merlin was awake, they were going to have a serious discussion about looking after one's self.

"Well, I won't keep you any longer, Gaius. Would you please tell Merlin that I stopped by and that I expect to see him back at work tomorrow?"

"Of course, Arthur. I'll let Merlin know you were asking after him."

"Don't put it like that, Gaius!" spluttered Arthur as he turned towards the door. "He'll think I was worried."

"Of course, Sire," responded Gaius dryly. Then, as the door closed, he muttered to himself, "Let's not let people know you actually care for the boy!"

Gaius spent most of the morning puttering around his worktable, replenishing some of his medicines and organizing the cabinet where the bottles were stored. Just before lunch, he heard a thud from Merlin's room, following by a bout of coughing.

Grabbing the bottle of cough syrup that he had readied earlier, Gaius headed up the small flight of stairs and into Merlin's room, to be greeted by the sight of the young warlock sitting at the edge of the bed, his cheeks slightly flushed with fever and his hair standing up all over his head.

"How are you feeling, Merlin?" asked Gaius as he poured the contents of the bottle into the goblet of water sitting on the bedside table and handed it to his ward. "Drink this first, then talk."

Obediently, Merlin downed the cough syrup, cleared his throat and then looked up at the physician, his eyes still glassy from the fever. "I feel like I've been run over by a cart," he rasped as he ran his hands over his face.

"That would be the fever," responded Gaius. "Do you mind telling me what you were thinking standing out in the cold all day? Honestly, Merlin; I thought you were smarter than that! You're still not fully recovered from your ordeal with the durocha. While I honestly don't know of anyone else who could have survived that attack, you need to remember that despite your talents, you're still only human. You need to take better care of yourself, my boy."

Though his words were rather harsh, his actions were gentle as he took the empty goblet from Merlin's hand and then helped his patient lie back on the bed. As he straightened the bedcovers and pulled them up around Merlin's shoulders, Gaius finally took a good look at the young man. Merlin's face was pale, with two red spots on his cheeks, and tears were balanced on the edges of his lids ready to fall.

"Oh, Merlin," murmured Gaius as he ran his hand across his ward's brow in a soothing manner, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I know you're having a difficult time and my temper isn't helping any, is it?"

Merlin took in a shuddering breath and as he blinked, one stray tear slipped from the corner of his eye and slid towards his temple. "I'm sorry, Gaius," he whispered. "I didn't mean to upset you, or to make myself sick. It's just that Lancelot …" His voice cracked with emotion and after swallowing a couple of times, Merlin continued. "It may sound stupid, but I didn't want Lancelot to be alone. I know he's not there. I mean, I know he's somewhere on the other side of the void, but it's all my fault and I should have realized his plans and stopped him …" His voice trailed away as he turned his head and stared into the corner of the room.

"Merlin, what Lancelot did was a terrible, but wonderful thing. He saved us all. He made his decision, and sometimes you have to let people travel their own path even if it hurts you deeply."

Merlin brought his fevered gaze back to the older man and protested, "But Gaius, Lancelot didn't do it to save Arthur or Camelot … he stepped through to void to save me! Why did he do it? It's my destiny to save Arthur, not his. Lancelot should never have been caught up in this whole disaster."

"Merlin," answered Gaius gently, "if Lancelot did it for you, should you not consider that perhaps saving you or even healing the void was his destiny? It certainly won't make your pain go away, but you need to remember that we cannot control our own fate, let alone that of another."

"It could also simply be that his love for you was so great that he was determined to save your life, just as you would surely have done for him. The only thing I do know for certain is that Lancelot's decision was his to make, and by questioning it you are doing his memory a disservice."

Gaius stood and gently patted Merlin's shoulder. "You need to rest and to heal. Get some sleep and we'll talk again later."

Merlin nodded, turned on his side and curled himself up into a small ball of misery. As the door closed behind Gaius, Merlin let fall the tears he had been holding back. He missed his dearest friend so much; but Gaius was right. He needed to stop questioning the reasons behind Lancelot's sacrifice and instead remember the good times he and Lancelot had shared.

The sleeping draught that Gaius had slipped into the cough syrup finally began to do its work and soon, between the medicine and his exhaustion, Merlin's eyelids closed and he slipped into a healing sleep.

Merlin slept away the whole afternoon, and by the time he awoke his fever had abated and his cough had eased as well. His bones and muscles still ached from the violence of the durocha's attack, but all in all he was feeling much better physically.

Mentally, though, Merlin was still wracked with guilt and he felt like he was drowning in the pain caused by Lancelot's death. The young man sat up, rubbed his hands across his face and through his hair, making it even messier that usual. He couldn't stop his brain from whirring and he kept visualizing Lancelot stepping into the dark split in the night air. He was emotionally exhausted and, though hungry, he couldn't summon the wherewithal to rise from his perch on the edge of his bed.

Dinner that evening promised to be quite a feast, and had come courtesy of Arthur. Not twenty minutes earlier, one of the household servants had arrived with a large covered tray and best wishes for a speedy recovery from the Prince. Once space had been cleared and the tray placed on the table, Gaius uncovered a golden-brown roasted chicken, roasted potatoes glistening with butter, some mashed turnip with sage and a small loaf of Cook's delicious honey bread, still warm from the oven. The servant had also left a jug of mead and a plate that held some cheese, a few apples and some berries.

As soon as Gaius heard Merlin stirring, he quickly set out a plate and cup at his place at the table. He sat down and waited for Merlin before starting in his own dinner, but the boy never appeared. Concerned, Gaius rose and, stopping at the bottom of the short flight of steps, called, "Merlin, are you all right? Dinner is set on the table. Come, you've not eaten anything since yesterday. I promise you'll feel better with some food in your stomach."

Gaius could almost hear Merlin thinking of a way to refuse the gentle command, and he was just about to head up to see what was the matter when Merlin called through the closed door in a tired voice, "All right Gaius. I'll be there shortly."

Despite his deep concern over the tone and sound of Merlin's response, all Gaius said was, "Don't take too long, my boy, or your dinner will be cold," before he returned to the table and slowly began slicing the honey bread that accompanied the repast.

By the time Merlin finally made it down to the main room, draped in his blanket, Gaius had placed a small amount of food on the lad's dinner plate and had poured him some fresh, hot tea.

As he sat at the table, Merlin glanced idly at the food before him and said, "What's all this?"

"It seems Prince Arthur is concerned about your welfare; he sent tonight's dinner. I must be sure to thank him," said Gaius as he picked up his fork and began eating.

"Hmm … yes. I'll thank him when I see him," murmured Merlin, slowly picking up his fork and half-heartedly taking a bite of potato. He gazed at his plate without really seeing it, and by the time Gaius had finished eating, Merlin had barely made a dent into what was on his plate. He'd managed about three mouthfuls of potato and a little bit of turnip. The chicken and the bread had been ignored.

"Merlin," admonished Gaius, "you must eat. You need to regain your strength and the best way to do that is through rest and good food."

Looking up at his mentor, and seeing the concern in the older man's watery blue eyes, Merlin sighed and said, "I know, Gaius. But I'm not really very hungry right now. I'll finish my tea and then I think I'll go back to bed and get some more sleep."

Not wanting to upset Merlin any more than he already was, Gaius simply said, "Of course, Merlin. That is probably a wise idea. Do you want another sleeping draught tonight?"

"No, Gaius, I don't think so. The one I took yesterday gave me horrible dreams and I'd rather not go through that again. I'll be fine," and rising from the table, Merlin slowly made his way towards his room, his blanket trailing behind him.

He had entered his room and was just turning to close the door when Gaius spoke. "Merlin, you know that I am always here for you, should you wish to talk. And you have friends whom I am sure would be more than happy to help you with anything."

"I know," responded Merlin with a tiny half-smile. "Thank you, Gaius. Maybe tomorrow, but right now I just want to get some sleep."

"Of course, dear boy. Get some rest and don't hesitate to call if you need anything. Sleep well."

As the door to Merlin's room closed and he heard the young man settle on his bed, Gaius couldn't help but worry anew about the young man.