I know, I'm a horrible person. Sorry! Basically I hit a massive wall of writers block and had no inspiration at all, then I found some more recent spoilers for season four and fell into a fan girl coma for several days, and then I had to return to the dreaded place known as school. So it all kind of built up and I haven't written anything for ages. But here is the new chapter, sorry if it's rubbish, I did say that I had no inspiration at all...

Oh, and for the poets among you, try and spot the semi quote thing :)

..

It was several minutes before Ragley said anything. Arthur's anxiety was running riot through his mind: fear for Merlin, a dread for the questions that he had little choice but to answer.

'Where do your loyalties lie?' he asked himself. Ultimately his loyalties were with Camelot and his father, but surely Merlin deserved something. He couldn't not answer and therefore condemn the loyal servant to another flogging; his conscience would bug him for the rest of his life if he did.

"Do you believe that your father is justified?" came the eventual question. All Arthur could do was stare at him; this was not the kind of questioning he had been anticipating. He didn't need to ask what Ragley was talking about though.

"In the hunting of your kin? It is not mine to reason why. I will always serve the king," he answered as honestly as he could. In truth he wanted to yell and rant at the bandit about how he no right to question his father's actions, but something told him that the end of this path only ended in Merlin's suffering. So he held his tongue.

"That is not what I asked. I'm no fool Arthur Pendragon, make no mistake. I am aware that you will serve your king to the death, but what I asked was whether you truly agreed to all his... beliefs," he hunted for a word that fit.

"I believe that he believes he is doing the right thing for Camelot, and I trust him to be right." Again it took the prince several moments to find the right words to convey his opinion, whilst trying to avoid the ire of his captor. "The only experiences I have ever had with magic is of evil sorcerers trying to destroy the kingdom. What would you have me believe?"

"Has it never occurred to you Pendragon that any sorcerer who doesn't want to destroy the kingdom would remain hidden to stay alive? If your father knew of anyone who used magic, regardless of what they used it for, they would be put to death." Arthur squirmed slightly under the gaze that fell on him.

His whole life he had been taught to believe that magic was the worst sin, and it could corrupt even the purest of spirits. Anyone he had encountered with magic had rapidly sought to bring about his downfall. Over the last few months he had been considering the alternatives to his father's beliefs, but nothing he came up with made sense. To his complete surprise the words of this bandit, who had hurt his friend, were getting under his skin.

'What if? What if there was someone out there, who had magic, and yet was not the bitter and angry soul that I imagine?' The question reverberated through his head for several minutes.

"You asked me before what I wanted. And to some extent I told you. But what I really want is her back. I don't care about you, or your father, or any of Camelot. I care about her." His voice had dropped into the same sadness that Arthur had recognised in the tent. It was the same sadness he heard in his father's voice whenever the king had to speak of Ygraine.

"Your wife." He stated quietly, and he didn't miss the way the man flinched slightly.

"I know that you believe I'm a heartless man. And I guess you'd be right; I gave her my heart, but I lost her. And thanks to your father I could not even mourn for her properly, or risk burning at the stake myself. As the prince you are welcome to speak your mind about anything without fear, but for the commoners it is not so. Had I said the things I wanted to say, I would have been executed without a moment's thought."

"Even if I told you that my father is wrong, and that I hold no grudge against magic, there is nothing that I can do to change what happened. No matter what power was gifted to me, I cannot rewrite time," the prince struggled not to let the pity he was unwillingly feeling bleed into his tone.

"I know that!" Ragley snapped. "But I ask you, and I expect an honest answer-" his voice dropped threateningly, "-if you had lost someone you loved more than anything else in the world, would you not wish to avenge their murder?"

"My father believed that she had broken the laws-" he was cut off.

"Answer me!" Ragley commanded, and for half a second a kind of madness flashed across his face. Arthur looked at him steadily for a moment, breathing in the smells of the camp, his thoughts miles away in Camelot, hovering over Uther and, of course, his Gwen.

In all his life he had never even tried to consider the situation being presented, and now that he was, he found he didn't like it. In his mind the laws of Camelot were the basis for everything he tried to protect, and if he answered the question honestly then all of his conviction in them would fail. And he couldn't bear it. Like a madman, his thoughts flashed from the image of Gwen's face, to the ideas of his father, and then in horror to the image of her - his love, his life - being sentenced to burn. He immediately forced the image away roughly, conjuring all the thoughts the sorcerers who had tried to end Camelot. Eventually, all he could say was:

"I can't answer that."

Ragley stared at him intently. "I think that, deep down, you know that you just did." A part of Arthur's mind rebelled at the accusation.

"Regardless, I wouldn't do what you have done! You tortured an innocent boy, to teach the son of the man you truly hate a lesson. It's a bit of a strange way to get revenge." He pointed out, then bit his tongue immediately. Then to his utter confusion and surprise, the bandit laughed.

"You would rather I went after your father?"

"No, that's not what-"

"Or maybe just attack the city?"

"No-"

"In case you hadn't noticed Pendragon, I might lead a group of men, but to take on Camelot is no mean feat. Your knights are legendary." There was a lack of venom in his tone that surprised the prince. Indeed there was almost a hint of awe.

"Who are you?" He asked, without thinking it through. The bandit's face closed fractionally, but none of the hatred flared up again. He seemed calmer now, and Arthur was relieved. A calm bandit meant less servant beating.

"I have no more questions for now. Return to your tent. Or don't, but know that if you wander, someone will regret it." There was no point arguing, and Arthur was sure that if he opened his mouth it would only be to hurl abuse at the man, so he turned and walked away without further comment.

..

When the prince entered the tent once more, Merlin let out an audible sigh of relief. Only now that they were in danger did he notice how much he panicked when he realised he couldn't set eyes on Arthur. His mind constantly worried itself stupid:

'What if the clot pole has gotten himself killed?' It seemed however, that his worry was unfounded.

"Are you alright?" The warlock asked, scanning the prince who had yet to do much other than stand in the doorway.

"I was going to say the same thing," he mumbled, wandering into the tent and dropping to the ground soundlessly. If only Merlin could move like his prince, then hunting would be much easier.

"What did he ask you?"

"I'm not really sure." Merlin snorted.

"You must have listened well," he commented, a smile twitching his mouth upwards.

"Says the idiot who never listens to a word I say," Arthur shot back, smiling himself. His servant seemed slightly more at ease than before, and the pain had faded to the back of his eyes. The prince had barely been able to stand the agony that had bled from the cerulean orbs when he had left the tent.

"Even idiots don't have to listen to prats. Not even royal ones." He stated, his grin spoiling his mock seriousness.

"Well, for your information Merlin, as a citizen of Camelot, by law you are meant to do as I say."

"Maybe the laws are wrong," he suggested, joking. The prince's face changed, and all of a sudden he looked uncertain. His eyes dropped from his servant's face, inspecting the toe of his boot intently, his hands unconsciously worrying the fabric on his trousers. "Arthur?" Merlin asked quietly, after a moment, completely nonplussed as to what had caused the sudden mood swing.

"Do you ever think Merlin, that maybe..." He trailed off slightly, then took a deep breath and held it. "That maybe the laws are... not suited for every situation?" Merlin just blinked in confusion.

"I don't understand," he said after trying to decipher the question. Arthur looked up at him, his eyes clouding with emotions that his friend couldn't read.

"No Merlin," his said after a moment, his voice twisted with his heavy heart. "Neither do I."

..

Ok, so that was a really short one, sorry! Another longer one is in the works, I promise. This just seemed like a good place to end it.

This chapter was a b*tch to write. I was trying to get across Ragley's unresolved issues with his wife's death etc, Arthur's confusion, coupled with his concern for Merlin and his ultimate loyalty to Camelot. I was going to have him questioned on Camelot's defences, but my muse refused to work with me, so it ended up a weird thought provoking thing instead. I no longer have any idea where I'm going with this...

Read me please :) In case you hadn't noticed some of my grammar in this story is awful! I hadn't even noticed until a few days ago, when I read through one of the chapters and was like :O So. I need a beta :) if anyone wants to do that, it would be amazing. Although, you might have to explain the system to me, cause I've not had a beta before.

So, I'm going to stop blathering. I hope you enjoyed the chapter :)