A/N: So...when I got home from work and choir on Wednesday night and checked my email, I'm pretty sure I just stared at the screen for a few minutes before running to my sister's room and spazzing. Honestly, I'm not sure what to say other than thank you. I never expected something like that. I don't think I've ever gotten so many reviews for a chapter before. Obviously I don't expect it to happen all the time or even a lot, but I still just want to say thank you. And thanks to everyone taking the time to read this fic. Knowing there are so many people who are enjoying it makes the sleep deprevation totally worth it :)

Title: Of Twisted Morals and Human Weaponry
Author: BeyondTheStorm
Rating: T for...well, a lot of things. Some language, some violence, the whole general situation, a bit of torture, etc.
Characters/pairings: The cast is as follows: Merlin, Arthur, an antagonist, two guards with names, and a few without. Merlin and Arthur are the main focus of this story. Oh, and no pairings. Only friendship here, though if you want to read more into it, feel free. Whatever floats your boat :)
Spoilers: Um...none, as far as I know.
Warnings: Abuse, a bit of torture, me being descriptive
What to expect: Bromance, introspection, angst, some whump, H/C, lots of drama, lots of worrying...oh, and some magic. Can't forget the magic :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin :)

So, I wasn't able to get through all the replies this week (between work, family, and church, I haven't had much time to myself). I only managed a hand full or so, but hopefully I'll be able to get through the ones for this chapter. I have the weekend off (thank goodness), so I might be able to if nothing goes wrong.

Well, here we go. If you see anything that's wrong, please feel free to point it out, and I shall fix it :)

Onward!

CHAPTER 10

For a moment he was completely paralyzed, his heart too unsteady and his head too full, but the moment those familiar bells began to toll, all the words he had been about to say became lodged in his throat, and before he even realized it, he was already moving.

"What…?"

Everything was suddenly wiped away to be replaced by a dawning sense of dread as the bells rang loud and clear, their sound echoing throughout the corridor. It certainly wasn't an uncommon thing to hear, not anymore, but no matter how many times they sounded, he would never grow used to it. Now more than ever, it invoked a great deal of fear.

Funny how something meant to alert them, to keep them safe, felt more like a death knell than a warning. Perhaps in this case it was both.

After shooting to his feet, Owyn made no further moves, too deep in shock and too full of worry to even try. He was well aware that Arthur had stopped talking by now and was probably staring at him. It would be understandable given his sudden movements and the fact that he wasn't doing anything other than looking out into the hallway as if the answer as to what was happening would just suddenly appear before him. He knew it wouldn't, but that didn't stop him from hoping, because just this once, he wanted to be wrong.

It was truly unfortunate just how unlikely that was.

"No," he said breathlessly, shaking his head to try and rid himself of the thought. It didn't work. "No, it can't—he wouldn't…"

It couldn't be. It just couldn't. It didn't make any sense—it couldn't be Merlin. The warlock had only just started moving around again. There was no way he would do something like that so soon after being flogged. He could barely walk around his cell let alone the castle, and to use his magic when he was in such a state would be dangerous, not to mention completely idiotic. Why escape when there would be no chance of actually escaping? He wouldn't be able to get away like that, and the next time around, it would take even longer for him to heal. After all, Barragh had threatened to add five lashings for every attempt. He would receive ten if he were caught again. Surely Merlin knew better than to take that kind of risk.

However, he couldn't deny that deep-seated doubt, that voice in the back of his head telling him that this was something that Merlin would do, because he wasn't the type of person to think things through. He was smart—there was no denying that—but he was also hasty and reckless with too much compassion and not enough self-preservation. There was something the boy needed to do, something that drove him to try time and time again to escape, no matter the cost to himself, and as much as Owyn wished it weren't the case, he was fairly certain it was.

Merlin was a selfless idiot, and unfortunately this was exactly the kind of thing he would do.

It didn't take long before he was able to hear the sound of footsteps coming down the hall, fast and frantic. He quickly went over to the bars, trying to see who it was, although he had a fairly good idea. After all, whenever he was visiting with the prince, a second guard wasn't too far off. In no time at all, the man who had accompanied him this time around came running up to the cell, stopping in front of the door and shakily grabbing at his keys. He was panting hard, as if he had just run a great distance, which meant that he had probably gone off the moment the bells had started ringing to find out what was happening.

From the look on his face, it was obvious that Owyn's earlier sense of dread was well-founded.

"What is it?" he asked, his hands gripping the bars of the door. "What's happening?"

The other guard was still trying to catch his breath and get a hold of the right key to let Owyn out, so he didn't respond right away. Owyn was about to ask again before another set of footsteps drew his attention. He tensed for a moment, praying that it wasn't Barragh or any of the guards who were actually loyal to him, but it turned out that he needn't have worried, because the man who came into view was a welcome one. He appeared to be equally as exhausted as the first guard, but his expression was far more grave than frantic, his worry more prominent than his fear.

"Rordan?"

If he had had any lingering doubts as to what was going on, they were gone now.

It took a moment for Rordan to catch his breath, and in that time the door to the cell was finally unlocked. Owyn was about to ask him the same question he had asked the other guard, but his friend was quick to cut him off, uttering the two words that would unknowingly change everything.

"It's Merlin."

Behind him, the sound of a cup hitting the floor reached his ears, and for a brief moment it even seemed to drown out the warning bells. Owyn didn't even need to turn around to know what had happened; he knew the prince well enough that it wasn't necessary. Nevertheless, his whole body tensed at the sound, because he knew what was about to happen, could practically see the look that was undoubtedly on Arthur's face as he sucked in a sharp breath and uttered an uncharacteristically shaky, "What?"

However, there wasn't time for that. They had to find Merlin. He would deal with the prince later.

"Come on," called Rordan, already making his way down the hall and away from the cell while the other guard lingered behind to lock it as soon as Owyn was out. Usually the scraping of the metal against the stone floor was enough to pull Arthur away from his thoughts, but not this time. He just continued to stare in the general direction of the guards, his mind racing, half desperate and half disbelieving. Part of him was certain of what he had just heard while the other part was trying to convince him that he was wrong, that he had misunderstood, that he had been so focused on the topic that was Merlin that he hadn't been paying attention. That had to be it.

Unfortunately, the less rational side of him, the one that had set off on a fake hunt, risking his father's wrath and his own life in order to find a missing servant, wouldn't let him write it off as a misunderstanding or a coincidence. He couldn't just pretend he hadn't heard the name of his friend when he had spent more than a month now without that friendly, irritating, loyal, constant presence at his side. He had to know.

Owyn was just standing there, frozen between the cell and the corridor, and even though he wasn't the one who had said Merlin's name, he had obviously understood the meaning behind it. Arthur opened his mouth to ask, hesitant and wary, because he didn't want to get his hopes up, didn't want to believe only to find out he was wrong.

Before the question could fully fall from his lips, Owyn was moving.

"What did you just—"

As soon as the guard jerked forward as if he couldn't get out of the cell fast enough, Arthur was on his feet.

"Wait, Owyn!"

He ran for the door only to have it quickly slammed shut and locked just as he reached the bars. He grabbed two of them tightly and pressed his face between them, trying to see down the hall. The other guard was already running, disappearing around the corner, but Owyn was still visible. There was still time. He had to get him to come back, had to make him answer, because he needed to know!

"Owyn!"

The man stopped for just a moment, glancing over his shoulder at the desperate prince. Arthur was about to yell at him again, to just shout his question and get it over with, but the look on the guard's face made him nearly choke on the words. Over the past week, he had gotten to know the somewhat strange man rather well, had seen all sorts of expressions and emotions flash across his face and linger in his eyes, but the look he was being sent wasn't something he had ever seen there before.

Determination, sorrow, pity, anxiety… It was the look of a man who wanted nothing more than to run but who had long ago made the decision not to. In that single moment, he looked decades older than he was, uncertain and weary. It was such an unfamiliar expression to see on that usually jovial face. If he didn't know any better, he would have called it defeat.

The guard stood there a moment longer before turning away.

"I'm sorry," he said as he began moving again, breaking into a sprint.

"Wait, Owyn!" Arthur called desperately, forgetting for a moment that he was the prince of Camelot, that princes were meant to make demands and give orders, not beg and plead for answers. However, in that moment he wasn't a prince, wasn't a noble. He was just Arthur, just a friend who had spent too many days searching and too many nights worrying, afraid and unwilling to return to a life where his only real friend was no longer a part of it. "Come back! Owyn! Please, just come back! Owyn!"

The unrelenting toll of the warning bell was his only reply.

"Here!"

Hearing Rordan's call up ahead, Owyn picked up his pace and eventually made it down the corridor, finally turning into the one where Merlin's cell had been. What he saw had him coming to an abrupt stop, too surprised at what lay before him to even say anything. Whatever he had been expecting, it certainly hadn't been this.

Most of Merlin's attempted escapes were quiet, usually involving the simple and quick unlocking of his cell door. His previous one had been a bit more dramatic due to his frustration with the lock sticking and had resulted in the door being blown off its hinges. This time around it wasn't just the door that had felt the raw power of Merlin's instinctual magic. Much of the wall had as well.

Lying in the middle of the corridor was a mess of metal and stone, blown apart and twisted by an impossible force. It shouldn't have been possible, and for anyone else it probably wouldn't have been, but all of them were aware of the fact that Merlin was anything but a run-of-the-mill sorcerer. Even with the brace on his arm suppressing his magic, he was still capable of drawing it out and bending it to his will. However, all of them had assumed that he couldn't do much with it, that he was limited to simple spells such as unlocking doors and lighting torches. Blowing his cell door off the hinges had been an accident due to frustration, but this…this was on a whole other level. There was no way mere frustration was responsible for this.

"What…?" he pondered aloud, his question dying away as he stepped around the ruble, still too much in awe of what he was seeing to be able to finish asking it. Bits of stone from the gaping hole in the wall were still crumbling to the floor, scattering dust along the way.

"The two guards who were here told me that it happened suddenly, without warning," said Rordan as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. "It just exploded, and before either of them could do anything, they were both thrown against the wall. It wasn't enough to actually hurt them, but they were dazed long enough for Merlin to get away."

"But that's…" He wanted to say "impossible," but there was more than enough proof that it wasn't. "I just don't understand. Why would he—I mean, he only just started moving around again!" Worry and exasperation were beginning to build up rapidly, and he found himself wishing that he could just punch the wall in order to vent it, but he got the feeling that it wouldn't make him feel any better.

How could something like this happen? Why now? They had been so close. Why would Merlin do something like this? Why condemn himself? What was he thinking?

"I don't know," said Rordan, sighing heavily but otherwise keeping a tight lid on his anxiety. Owyn wished that he had even half the control his friend did, because even though he knew that Rordan had to be panicking by now, not to mention beating himself up over the situation, he didn't let it show. In no way was he calm, but his frustration was far more subtle.

The older guard took another sweeping look at the damage before arriving at the same conclusion as Owyn.

"Something must have happened," he said, his voice taking on a hint of self-deprivation as a bit more of his exasperation slipped through. "Damn it, I should have told him. I was going to, but I didn't think he would—I only needed a few more days…"

Not knowing quite what to say for once, Owyn walked up and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder, trying to tell him what words alone couldn't convey. This wasn't anyone's fault. No one had expected something like this to happen, not so soon after the last. Merlin was still weak, still healing, and they had thought he'd be wise enough to wait until he was stronger before trying again, and by that point they would have already put their plan into motion. The warlock would have been on his way home with the prince of Camelot, someone who could protect him until his magic was fully restored.

That had been the plan, but…

He swallowed hard, trying to force away the thought as his stomach twisted and his heart clenched painfully in his chest.

Arthur and Merlin. They knew each other. He hadn't been able to confirm it, but he was certain that they did. Merlin, the warlock who had pledged his loyalty and his magic to someone important to him, and Arthur, the prince who had risked everything in order to find his servant and best friend. Somehow it just made sense, no matter how unlikely it seemed. To think that Arthur was being held for ransom by the same man who had imprisoned his servant… What were the odds?

He couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if everything had gone according to plan, if Merlin hadn't escaped on his own and Barragh hadn't sent word to Uther, if Arthur and Merlin had just met up again while he and Rordan got them out of the castle. How would they have reacted? What would they have done? Knowing the two of them the way he did, he was pretty sure there would have been a bit of gaping, followed by relief and a whole lot of unfinished and unanswered questions, and ending with a good deal of yelling (teasing and insulting with a good mix of worry and aggravation, but nothing angry, nothing meant to hurt).

It was a nice thought, but there wasn't time to keep thinking about it, to keep playing around with all the possibilities if things had happened differently. They needed to get going, and so he opened his mouth to say something. Whether he intended to urge Rordan into action or tell him what he had learned about their two most noteworthy prisoners, he didn't know, but he found himself unable to speak for probably the fifth time in the last hour (definitely a new record). He wasn't sure why he had suddenly thought of it, but it was enough to make his blood run cold.

Owyn frantically tried to recall every conversation he had had with Arthur, every time he had ever mentioned Merlin without actually mentioning him, trying to figure out if he had ever once said anything about the "other prisoner" having magic. He prayed that he hadn't slipped up, that he hadn't implied that it was a possibility, that he hadn't said anything, because Arthur didn't know. He had no earthly idea what his servant was truly capable of. He couldn't, because magic was illegal in Camelot, and when the two of them had talked about it, Arthur hadn't been putting on an act. He hadn't been pretending to be the dutiful prince while secretly harboring a magic user in the heart of Camelot.

Arthur didn't know. Merlin hadn't told him.

The prince had said that he wouldn't harm a sorcerer who used their magic for good, that he didn't fully agree with his father's stance on sorcery, and they had been counting on that, but this was something altogether different. This was about secrets and lies, the kinds of things that could break a friendship. How could they possibly find a way out of this without completely shattering everything those two had built together?

How could they ever hope to fix this?

A hand falling on his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts, and he quickly schooled his features into something less frantic, pushing away the cold terror he had been feeling. He raised his head and met a pair of resigned but determined eyes and a grave expression.

"Come on," said Rordan as he began to walk away. "We have to find him."

Owyn nodded numbly, still trying to sort out his thoughts, but in that moment he made a decision. He would tell no one what he had learned. He wouldn't breathe a word of it, not even to Rordan. He couldn't take the risk, because the situation just kept slipping from their grasp, falling further and further away. No matter what, he wanted to protect the two young men and their unlikely but incredible friendship.

No one could know about them, no one, because if Barragh were to ever find out, he was certain that everything—their secrets, their bond, all they had strived for and all they had yet to achieve—would be lost.

Merlin had no idea where he was going (which, honestly, wasn't anything new), but he knew that no matter what, he couldn't stop. He had to keep moving forward even though all he wanted to do was collapse into a soft bed and sleep for a month, or maybe even a year. He wasn't all that particular about the details. It was rather hard to be when his whole body felt like it was on fire and his legs kept threatening to send him crashing to the floor in an undignified heap. That was the last thing he needed on top of everything else, because he knew that if he went down, he wouldn't be getting back up again, and he couldn't let that happen, not after what he had done.

Trying to ignore the pain throughout his body and the guilt gradually building up in his chest, he pressed onward, trying to keep to the alcoves so that he could avoid the guards. If he could help it, he didn't want to run into any more. He wasn't sure if his conscience could take it. The words "I'm sorry" were an unending litany running through his head and ready to spill forth should he do something he never would have under different circumstances. He prayed that everyone he had thrown back, whether into the walls, onto the floor, or into each other, wasn't hurt too badly. He hadn't wanted to use his magic like that, but there had been no other way to get past them (they couldn't risk ignoring him lest Barragh find out). Hopefully they would understand. He needed to get out. Arthur was in trouble.

He sucked in a sharp breath as he felt his magic roil and twist, fighting to remain at the surface while being pushed down by the limiter on his arm. It hurt. He had known it would, but he hadn't been prepared for the sheer magnitude of it. The wounds on his back ached with every step he took, as did his legs and arms. He was nauseous and dizzy, his vision threatening to darken even though the edges were already black. He had never felt so horrible before. This was even worse than that time he had drank poison for Arthur, because this time he was aware enough to remember every painstaking moment.

Nevertheless, he kept moving, because he couldn't bring himself to stop. He had to get out of the castle and back to Camelot so that he could find out what had happened to Arthur. If the prince was truly missing, then the best place to start would be with Gaius. The physician always knew what to do, had always helped to point him in the right direction, and if something magical was at play, he'd be the one who'd know. Plus, he'd probably be the warlock's best bet at getting that brace off without destroying his arm (he actually had thought about it a few times during some of his more desperate, hopeless moments, but the prospect had always left him sick to his stomach and terrified, so it had always remained as nothing more than a passing thought).

When Merlin reached the end of the alcove, he peered around the corner to see if the coast was clear before stepping into the open. He had no idea where he was, and he couldn't tell if anyone was on their way to his location or not. Normally he could hear the sound of footsteps approaching whenever someone was getting too close, but between the warning bells and his own pain-addled head, he couldn't really focus enough to tell if anyone was around or not. For their sake, he hoped not.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to move towards the end of the corridor, but after only a few shaky steps, he found himself leaning heavily against the wall, his legs refusing to keep him upright any longer. His whole body was begging him to let go of his magic, to let it retreat, but he knew that if he did, he wouldn't be able to reach it again, not for a long time. He had already used too much, far more than what should have been possible for someone in his situation, but he never was one to conform to the standards. Why start now?

When he finally felt like he might be able to start walking again, he pushed away from the wall and took a tentative step forward.

"Merlin!"

The warlock froze, recognizing the voice instantly.

"Merlin, wait!"

Out of all the guards he knew, everyone he had encountered during his time spent locked away, there were two that he had been praying with all he had not to come across. There were two people who had taken the time to truly befriend him, to visit with him, to go out of their way just to make his life a little less bleak in the midst of everything that had gone wrong.

He wasn't sure if he had it in him to throw them back. Under different circumstance he wouldn't have needed to, but unfortunately they weren't the only ones to find him standing in the middle of the corridor. It only took a moment for almost twenty guards to pour out of the alcoves (apparently he wasn't as good at sneaking around as he had thought) and surround him. They formed a loose circle, giving the warlock a wide berth, and considering what he was capable of, it was understandable. He watched as they all glanced at each other, none of them wanting to be the ones to approach but none of them willing to leave either, knowing what the consequences would be if they allowed him to pass unhindered.

Merlin may have had their sympathy, their compassion, but Barragh held their fear.

They couldn't let him go, but this time he couldn't afford to be caught.

He clenched his fists and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He knew what had to be done.

I'm sorry.

He only hoped they would forgive him.

A/N: Well, that's it for now. I get the sneaking suspicion that I'm going to be called evil again, which is fine, because I probably am. I like cliffhangers, and until the last chapter, this fic had been rather lacking in that respect, but not anymore :)

Anyway, I want to say something real quick. For all who don't know/haven't noticed yet, I update once a week, every Tuesday night/Wednesday morning. That won't change. I will never miss an update if I can help it, and if something does happen, I will have a note at the top of my profile (I think this has only happened one time, when I was too sick to even climb my ladder to get into bed). The only time there won't be a note is if I'm physically unable to post one (like if I'm in the hospital or in a coma...or if my internet dies. Something like that). So fear not, for I shall always be punctual as long as I am able :)

So anyway, that's all for now. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. The reunion should be coming soon :)

Until next week!