A/N: Greetings! I hope everyone had a lovely Christmas and a happy new year :) Sorry about the lack of update last week, but it was Christmas, my only day off during the week, and I wanted to spend it with my family. I mentioned this in a previous author's note, but if I don't update for some reason, said reason will be posted at the top of my profile page (unless of course I'm incapacitated in some way and therefore am incapable of accessing the internet).

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 :)

Ah, one quick request. Please, for the love of all that is good, if you have seen the series finale, do not tell me anything about it. I haven't watched 12 or 13 yet, as I plan on watching the whole season this weekend with my friends and sister for my B-day. We always get together and watch the newest seasons of both Dr. Who and Merlin during winter break, so please be kind and don't spoil anything for me. I've been trying really hard not to ruin it for myself.

So, anyway, this chapter actually wrote itself a lot more easily than I thought it would...except for that ending. I think it took me a half an hour just to find a way to make it grammatically right while still maintaining the effect I wanted. Sigh... Hopefully it was worth it.

If you see any errors, please point them out and I shall fix them. I was only able to go through this once.

Enjoy!

CHAPTER 15

It had been three days now. Three days, and Arthur still didn't have a single answer to even one of his many questions. If anything, the pile of things he wanted to know but didn't just kept increasing with each passing moment, and no matter how hard he tried to work things out on his own, nothing ever seemed to add up in a way that made sense. Regardless of how he approached things, he just couldn't piece the situation together. He was missing something big, something important—that one thing that would somehow make everything else fall into place one way or another; he was certain of it.

However, he was no closer to figuring it out than he had been before, especially since his only two sources (three if one felt like including Barragh, but Arthur preferred to only think of him as sword fodder most of the time) were unable to give him any information whatsoever. After all, it was rather hard for him to talk to Merlin when the servant spent most of his time sleeping. Sure, he had always known the boy was a bit lazy, but this was on a whole other level.

Honestly, how could a person sleep for that long without waking up? The only times he had been conscious in the past three days were when a guard would come with food and make him wake up to eat it. Apparently Barragh wasn't sadistic enough to starve his prisoners even though he seemed like the type to do so, though in this case it probably had more to do with the fact that if Merlin didn't eat, there was a good chance that his condition would worsen. Even though it was Barragh's fault that the boy was in such a precarious state in the first place, it was obvious that the nobleman didn't want him to die. You couldn't get anything from a person who was dead, after all.

During those few moments of awareness, Arthur had paid particular attention to his servant without drawing attention to himself. He had learned in that time that it wasn't just Owyn who had a soft spot for the young prisoner. It had been a different guard who delivered each meal, but every one of them remained in order to help the boy get the food into his system. Merlin couldn't move much on his own, not without the risk of tearing open his injuries, so he required help when it came to sitting up enough to eat. He never ate much though, just enough to satiate his hunger without making himself sick to his stomach. He probably would have preferred to eat nothing seeing as how pain was a rather strong deterrent for pretty much everything, including hunger, but Merlin clearly knew better than to starve himself in his condition. Living with a physician certainly had its advantages.

It was a bit strange, really, to watch the guards interact with Merlin, to see how much they hated the situation and how guilty they all looked. Did they blame themselves for what had happened to him? Were they somehow responsible for it? So many times he had wanted to say something, to ask them questions, but he knew he couldn't, not without making them suspicious, because as far as they knew, he and Merlin had nothing to do with each other. Perhaps his queries would be taken as mere curiosity, but he couldn't take the chance that someone might see through and notice the genuine concern that was becoming harder and harder to hide. Even though it was clear that most of the guards didn't like Barragh, he had no way of knowing which of them were trustworthy and which of them weren't. He couldn't take that risk, no matter how badly he wanted answers. He was just going to have to wait until Merlin could either stay awake long enough to hold a conversation or until Owyn came back.

That was another thing that was bothering him. Ever since he was first locked up—which felt like ages ago even though it hadn't even been two weeks yet—Owyn had always made it a habit of visiting him once a day, even if it was just a quick hello. More often than not, he had been the one to bring up his meals, which often led to lengthy conversations. He was also pretty sure that the guard had visited Merlin just as often, if not to bring him food then to help tend his wounds. Now that both of them were locked up next to each other, Owyn had absolutely no reason not to see them since he didn't have to pick between visiting one or the other.

However, that apparently wasn't the case, because ever since he had walked out that first day after tending to Merlin, Arthur hadn't seen hide nor hair of the man. Not once had he stopped by to visit or change Merlin's bandages or bring them food. He just wasn't around. Even though three days wasn't exactly a long period of time and was certainly not enough to justify being worried, the prince couldn't help the slight unease he felt at the thought of Owyn not showing up even once to check on them. Surely the guard wouldn't have just abandoned them, not after everything that had happened. He just wasn't that type of person, but that meant that the only other explanation was that something had happened.

He didn't want to think about it. He already had more than enough things to worry about and far too many unanswered questions. He found himself cursing Owyn for doing this to him when his hands were already full dealing with Merlin and trying to figure out a way for the both of them to escape. He really didn't need someone else to be concerned about. Owyn was supposed to be helping him figure everything out, not creating even more problems.

Arthur was tempted to just ask one of the other guards if they knew anything about the man's sudden disappearance, but he wasn't sure if it would be wise. Showing interest was a dangerous thing. He was better off to appear indifferent, unreadable, because after all those conversations with Owyn, he had learned that Barragh was good at finding weaknesses and using them against you. He also didn't want to get the man in trouble, and if Barragh were to find out what the guard had been up to in regards to both him and Merlin, well…things probably wouldn't end well for him. After everything that Owyn had done for the two of them, the last thing he wanted to do was accidentally sell him out.

What would Barragh do if he found out? After all, he had lost his leverage over the guard, but at the same time that wasn't entirely true, was it, because even though Owyn had stopped caring about his original incentive, he had gained a different one, something that wasn't so easy to let go of. Compassion was both a weakness and a strength; as a prince, Arthur knew that well. Care and compassion, kindness, could push a person well beyond their own limits, but those same things could also very easily break that person, make them vulnerable, create weaknesses. As long as a person chose to care, there would always be something they stood to lose. That was just the way it was.

And that was why, no matter how badly he wanted to, he was going to keep his mouth shut. He wouldn't ask questions, wouldn't give anything away. He had to pretend, for all their sakes, that he was detached, indifferent, that his concern didn't go any deeper than the surface. It wouldn't be easy, but he would manage.

Too much was at stake for him not to.

It was on the fifth day of their joint imprisonment—and by now Arthur was more than ready to smash his head against the wall if it would allow him to just forget about all his unanswered questions—that the situation finally changed. It did so in the form of Merlin actually staying awake. He had been sleeping right up until the point that one of the guards brought their morning meal. Usually he would just go right back to sleeping after finishing it and taking whatever medicine was brought for him, but his time his eyes stayed open. The shadows that had been under them for the past few days were long gone, and even though he was still a far cry from healthy, he certainly looked to be improving. He still couldn't move around too much, but that would be resolved too eventually. He just needed to heal up a little more.

Deciding not to miss out on this opportunity, Arthur moved himself away from the wall and towards the bars that separated their cells. He had no idea how long Merlin's moment of wakefulness would last, so he needed to get some things sorted out while he could. His jumbled up mess of questions and things that didn't add up had only grown larger with each passing day, and so he was more than ready to get some answers. Hopefully his servant would be willing to cooperate for once.

"Merlin," he called, keeping his voice quiet just in case anyone was still lingering out in the corridor. He waited until Merlin managed to shift himself so that he was facing the prince. The boy folded his arms and placed his head upon them as he lay on the ground, still incapable of sitting up for too long on his own.

"What?" he asked back just as softly, though Arthur suspected that part of the reason for that was due to weakness. Merlin hadn't really used his voice in a while other than to mutter a quiet yes or no or to tell a guard "thank you." It had been strange seeing him so silent for so long.

"I was wondering if you could tell me something."

There was a flash of unease in those eyes, one that vanished so fast that Arthur was half-convinced he had only imagined it. However, he wouldn't write it off, not this time, because so much about the situation didn't make sense to him that he needed to make sure to pay attention to everything, however subtle. If there was one thing Merlin was really good at, it was hiding.

"What?" the servant asked again, and Arthur was certain that the word shook a bit as he said it. That alone was proof that he was worried, and that meant that there was something he didn't want to say. Hopefully Arthur would be able to find a way to get it out of him, whatever "it" was. He didn't like the idea of Merlin keeping a secret from him, not when the circumstances were as dire as they were.

Something told him though that getting an answer to his question was going to be anything but easy.

"I want to know what Barragh wants with you. Why is he keeping you here?"

As expected, Merlin kept quiet. He even turned his gaze away, staring instead at the floor. To most people it would probably look like he was trying to come up with an answer—that he was thinking about how to respond because it was a sore topic or something like that—but to Arthur, it looked like he was simply trying to avoid having to answer at all. Unfortunately for him, turning one's gaze away was not an end to a conversation, nor was it any way to answer a question. Merlin wasn't going to be getting away with it this time, because Arthur wasn't going to give up. There was nowhere for either of them to go, no duties to attend to or to interrupt them. His servant couldn't run away in order to dodge the question, and if he tried to lie, Arthur would be watching for it.

"Well?" he prompted when he didn't get an answer.

"…I don't know."

That was obviously untrue.

"You have to have some idea. He wouldn't be doing this if there wasn't a reason."

Again he received no answer, so he picked a different question, one that he was pretty sure Merlin would be just as likely not to answer.

"Fine then," he began, "if you won't tell me what he wants with you, then tell me how you managed to escape."

"I didn't escape—"

"You know what I mean, Merlin." He wasn't going to put up with it this time. He wouldn't let him deflect or turn Arthur's query into some sort of exasperating argument that would make him forget what he had originally asked in the first place (something else he was infuriatingly good at).

Merlin fell silent for a moment, and when he opened his mouth to speak again, Arthur was quick to cut him off.

"And don't you dare say you don't know," he practically growled, scowling at the surprised servant. Apparently he had guessed right about the excuse Merlin was going to give. "I won't abide being lied to."

Something that looked a lot like guilt but even more like sorrow settled upon that pale face as those blue eyes were once again averted from his own. Part of him was glad that he had managed to call Merlin out on his lie, but the other part was far more focused on trying to understand why he had felt the need to tell one in the first place. If he was somehow able to pick the locks on the cells (however unlikely that seemed), then why lie about it? What could he possibly be hiding that he didn't want Arthur to know? What could be so terrible that it would put that kind of look on his face? What couldn't he tell him?

Perhaps a different approach was necessary.

"Merlin," he began, waiting until he was certain he had his friend's attention before continuing. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. I don't know why you feel the need to hide it, but whatever secret you're keeping, I swear it won't change anything."

"Don't say that."

He almost didn't hear the words, they were spoken so softly. What truly drew his attention was the tone they had been whispered in, something wistful yet somewhat bitter. It was the voice of someone who couldn't afford to get their hopes up no matter how badly they wanted to.

"What?" he asked, confused, because that wasn't what he had been expecting. Trust Merlin to still manage to find a way to throw him off even when all the normal tactics failed.

"Don't say something like that when you don't mean it."

"I do mean it."

"No."

He was beginning to get frustrated. Didn't Merlin know him better by now? Arthur was a man of his word. How could he still not understand something as simple as that after everything they had been through together? What did he want from him, a written oath signed in blood?

"Merlin, whatever it is, I promise it won't change anything. I give you my word."

"You shouldn't make promises if you can't keep them."

"I always keep them."

"You won't that one."

"Merlin!" he practically yelled before reigning himself in, both of them falling silent as they listened to see if anyone was coming, if anyone had been close enough to hear Arthur's outburst. Luckily the halls remained silent—no footsteps, no metal scraping, not even the soft sound of chainmail links when they shifted. Everything around them was quiet, and once Arthur was certain it would stay that way for a while, he took a deep breath and continued on as calmly as he could. "Merlin, please. Whatever it is, you can trust me."

He took another deep breath and prepared himself for what could possibly be one of the most difficult things he would ever do or say. He hated making himself vulnerable, but sometimes it had to be done. Sometimes words were the only way to really get something across, so Arthur did the only thing he could think of: he swallowed his pride.

"You should know by now that you're more than just a servant to me," he said, letting the words come as they would without hesitation, without censor. "I also consider you my closest friend."

Those blue eyes immediately shot up to meet his own, clearly surprised at the admission, and even though the prince felt a little embarrassed about it all, he also couldn't help but feel like he had failed in some way somewhere along the line. Merlin should have already known that, should have realized that Arthur saw him as a friend—his only friend, really—and yet even though it only lasted for a moment, he had been stunned by that word. He hadn't known, not entirely, and when it all came down to it in the end, that was Arthur's fault, because over the course of their odd relationship, the prince had never once used that word—not like that, anyway.

It was true that it was difficult for him to grow close to anyone due to his station. Being a prince automatically separated him from everyone else, and so it was hard to interact with others. His birthright always seemed to get in the way, and yet with Merlin, that had never been an issue. Very rarely did he show respect for Arthur's title. From the beginning, Merlin had always treated him like he would anyone else—like a person instead of a prince. That social barrier just didn't really exist between the two of them unless the situation called for it (or unless Arthur felt like using it to try and get his way, which half the time didn't work). At first it had irritated him, but gradually he had grown to appreciate it and even enjoy it. It was nice to have someone around who treated him like an equal…like a friend.

He trusted Merlin more than he trusted anyone, but it clearly didn't seem to go both ways. Merlin didn't trust him, not completely, and as much as he wanted to be angry over that fact, he instead found himself wondering if there was something he could have done differently in order to earn it. Perhaps if he had treated Merlin more like the friend he was instead of like the servant that he most often times wasn't, things would be different, but because of the way he was raised, the things he was taught, it was difficult for him. Even in this his station interfered.

How could he expect someone to trust him when he continuously blurred the lines between who and what he was?

How could he possibly convince Merlin that he was "Arthur" first and the "crown prince" second? Could he himself even manage such a division?

"…Arthur."

His attention quickly snapped back to his servant only to find that he was once again staring at the floor, avoiding eye contact. However, something seemed a bit different this time. There was still a wariness there that bothered him, but he could see resolve there as well, however fleeting it was.

"Can I ask you something?" he began, and Arthur nodded once in consent before realizing that Merlin wouldn't see him.

"Of course."

He watched as the boy sucked in a deep breath—as deep as he could given his position on the floor—before asking his question.

"What if someone close to you were to break the law? What would you do?"

Arthur blinked in surprise, momentarily lost for words. He certainly hadn't been expecting that.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I was just curious." Somehow he got the feeling that wasn't entirely true.

"I guess it would depend on the law and their reason for breaking it," he said slowly, thoughtfully, all the while trying to figure out where Merlin was going with this and why he was asking. Was it a hypothetical question? It certainly sounded like one (he had gotten rather used to them after spending so much time talking to Owyn). However, he also knew that sometimes a hypothetical question was nothing more than a disguise, a way to get an answer to something without involving yourself.

Which one was it? Just where was he going with this?

"What if it was an unfair law, but it was considered treason to break it?"

"If it was treason, then why would they bother to break it in the first place?"

"What if they couldn't help it? What if they did it to protect someone important, to save lives? What if…what if every breath they took was against the law? What if they were committing treason from the moment they were born?"

"That's…" He wanted to say "impossible." He wanted to tell Merlin that he was being ridiculous, that there were no outrageous, unreasonable laws like that, but he couldn't. He just couldn't, because as much as he wanted to deny it, he knew that there were.

The laws against magic.

Sorcerers were born with an aptitude for magic.

Yes, some of them chose to use their gifts for the wrong reasons, but surely there were just as many who didn't, who wanted nothing more than to live peacefully, to use their skills for the sake of others. In such a vast land full of people, surely there were those with magic who were good. He had had such notions before, however brief, but after being forced to think on it after hearing what Owyn had had to say on the matter—a man who had no magic himself but had seen it used in a variety of ways—he had found himself questioning the very laws he was sworn to uphold. As the prince, he knew his duty, but his heart just couldn't agree.

Where was the justice in executing children, in slaughtering the innocent, in killing someone for protecting the helpless? How could you possibly condemn someone to death from the moment they were born, for the sheer act of existing? Where was the justice in that?

As hard as it was to go against his father, to know that just thinking that the laws were unjust and unfair could be considered treasonous, he found that he just couldn't fully agree with them, not anymore.

It suddenly struck him—whether by instinct or something else entirely—that perhaps this really wasn't a hypothetical discussion, at least not in the way he had thought. Perhaps part of it was, but the law that Merlin was referring to had to be the one against magic. He could think of no other law that fit, which meant that the "someone" he kept referring to had to be a sorcerer, or at the very least a person who knew a sorcerer. That part was easy enough to figure out. The real question was why had Merlin asked? What was he trying to get at? If it was all hypothetical, then maybe all he wanted was to hear Arthur's opinion. Maybe Owyn had talked to him about magic as well, but he got the feeling that that wasn't quite it.

Maybe Merlin knew a sorcerer. Perhaps he had met one of the other prisoners and they just happened to have magic. That would certainly make sense. Merlin had been in the castle for over a month, after all, and according to what Owyn had told him, Barragh did have a special interest in sorcerers—

"What's wrong, Barragh? Having a bit of trouble holding onto your prisoners?"

"This one is a special case."

Wait.

"You talk as if you know a lot about it."

"I do. I've…met a lot of sorcerer while working for Barragh."

No…

"So, you wanted to know about what happened earlier? Well, you were right. Barragh gave the order to flog one of the prisoners."

"The one who keeps escaping?"

No, it couldn't be.

"…I've never really met a sorcerer who wasn't trying to kill or deceive me."

"Well, I have. You probably have too, you just don't know it. Magic can be hidden, after all."

It just couldn't be.

"What makes him so important?"

"He, well… Let's just say that he has a particular set of skills, and he's extremely good at what he does. It isn't a talent you come across very often, and so Barragh decided to keep him. He wants those abilities for himself, and he's determined to make that happen no matter what."

There was just no way.

"He sells sorcerers as weapons."

Surely that was impossible.

"I only have one. Two, possibly, depending on your answer."

"Go ahead."

It had to be.

"Is Merlin the prisoner you told me about before, the one who keeps escaping?"

"Yes."

It had to be.

"You don't understand—it's not that simple! I can't just tell you, because I don't know how you'll…!"

"I want to trust you, Arthur, but I'm not sure if I can, not with this, and there's too much I don't know to even try. You're going to find out eventually, but Merlin should be the one to tell you. It isn't my place."

Something like that—something as ridiculous as that just couldn't happen. It had to be impossible, right?

"What if someone close to you…" It was hypothetical, just an example—a simple question, a way to find out where he stood, what he thought. It had to be, right? Because there was just no way that Merlin—

"What if someone close to you…"

Was a sorcerer.

"…Were to break the law?"

...Right?

"What would you do?"

A/N: Well, there you have it. Not a full reveal yet, and not what I originally intended to do, but I know a lot of people wanted Arthur to start putting everything together, so I thought this would be fun (and it was :) The rest of it will happen next chapter, promise. Lots of stuff is about to happen, including Barragh and his plan. It should hopefully be lots of fun (well, for me, anyway).

As always, I want to thank you for all the reviews and all the support. It means a lot to know that so many people enjoy my work, so thank you all for taking the time to read this story each week. I've never gotten this incredible of a response before for anything I've written, so thank you :)

Until next week!