Well, it didn't take as long to get this chapter up! :D Hopefully I'll be able to finish this story before the end of summer, but we'll see. :)

Warning: Their is character torture in this chapter (What can I say? I love torturing my favorite characters haha) I don't think it's to graphic, but just a head's up.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin...which is probably a very good thing haha :P


Chapter 7: A Little Persuasion

There was a trace of sadness in Morgana's eyes and she ran a gentle hand across his cheek before hardening once more and drawing back. "You know what to do, Beldier."

And then she turned her back on Mordred and was gone.

Beldier was grinning wickedly as the door slammed shut behind Morgana. He took his time walking over to Mordred, fingering the handles of the knives held behind his belt. Mordred struggled briefly against his bonds, but they tightened around his wrists with each move he made and so he stopped, hoping they would loosen enough for him to slip free before they could retighten. He watched Beldier warily, not liking the cruel tint in his grin and eyes.

"We're goin' to have some fun, boy." He announced in a thick accent, unwrapping the whip from around his chest.

Mordred remained silent, eyes locked onto the whip. He had seen what the whip could do in the hands of someone who knew how to use it and judging by the practiced grip he held, Beldier was very accustomed to using it. The large man finished the short walk to Mordred and quickly ripped the shirt and jacket from him, not caring that he had ruined the boy's only clothing.

"This is goin' to be fun." The man said, grin widening to reveal a mouth full or missing or rotting teeth.

Mordred didn't have time to think before the whip cracked and the first lash fell across his back. An involuntary cry escaped before he could choke it back and tears sprang to his eyes as the whip broke his skin. The whip cracked again, landing on his back and wrapping around to his chest. Try as he might, Mordred couldn't hold back the tears that began to spill from his eyes, but he did manage to choke back the cry of pain that rose almost without warning.

Two, three, five more times the whip fell. Already his back was a bloody mess and his chest didn't look too good either. By the sixth lash he couldn't hold back anymore and cries of agony began escaping him. He pulled at the shackles, forgetting all about trying to remain still to see if they would loosen. He arched his back with each lash, trying to escape. The chains tightened around his wrist, cutting into them and drawing blood, but he was in too much pain to notice. He soon last track of how many times the whip had fallen across his back. All he was aware of was the pain and the laughter that came from his tormenter with each anguished cry.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the whip fell still, leaving a bleeding Mordred all but collapsed. If it were not for the chains around his wrists holding him up, he would have fallen down for sure. Beldier curled the whip, still wet with blood, and wrapped it around his chest. He circled the boy, slowly, studying his handiwork.

"Not bad for the first time in a long while." He commented proudly. Drawing one of his knives, he held it up under Mordred's chin, forcing his head back. "Now, boy, are you goin' to do what the Lady Morgana wishes?"

Mordred didn't answer at first. He struggled to stand straight, his legs threatening to give out underneath him. Out of sheer stubbornness and pride, he managed to straighten himself as much as he could, the knife still pressed below his chin.

"I will not help her kill Arthur." Mordred replied, voice confident despite the raspy quality it had and the pain that still could be heard. "Just like I wouldn't have helped him kill her."

"He would kill you in a second for who you are." Beldier hissed, the tip of his knife digging slightly deeper beneath Mordred's chin, drawing drops of blood. "He has no mercy for those like us."

"Like us?" Mordred repeated, curious despite the intense agony he was in. "You're a druid?"

"I was." The man admitted and a look of sadness crossed his face before being replaced by a look of intense fury. "Until that coward came charging into our camp and slaughtered my whole village!"

"Arthur did that?" Mordred asked as the pressure on the knife was let up somewhat.

"His knights," Beldier admitted, "But it's the same thing. Because of Camelot, my family is dead. My wife, my child, gone!"

"I'm sorry." Mordred said sincerely. "But that wasn't Arthur. It was knights. One man can't be blamed for the faults of another."

"Yes he can!"

The knife cut into his chin and Mordred could feel the blood trickling from the cut. Beldier drew the knife back and grinned at his victim.

"By the time I'm done with you," he said slowly, calming himself. "You'll understand. You'll agree with me and the Lady Morgana."

"No." Mordred replied.

"We'll see." Beldier grinned wildly. "After all, we're just getting started."