A/N: Why do my chapters keep ending in places that I don't intend them too? Honestly, this one got a bit long. There was supposed to be another scene, but I didn't have time to write it (it would have made this chapter way too long). So instead it'll just have to be put in next time I suppose :) Which is fine. It means lots more drama next week.

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 :)

IMPORTANT: Hopefully that drew your attention :) Okay, I'm going to say this now so that there are no misunderstandings later and so that no one gets their hopes up: I do not plan on writing the actual return to Camelot. I've been asked quite a few times about that this week, so I figured I should be straight with you all :) I said this before, back around CH 2 or 3 (can't remember which one it was in), but this fic has no specific point in the canon timeline. When it takes place is meant to be ambiguous. Obviously it's before the end of season 3 since Arthur is still a prince and Uther isn't broken, but aside from that, it's not tied to any specific season. I've been very careful about not touching upon specific canon events except for a few very early season 1 ones, and I have no intention of changing that now. That's why there has been no mention of Morgana or the dragon, and that's why I don't intend to write out the physical "return" to Camelot. This story was never really about that to begin with. I am sorry if this disappoints anyone, but I just don't intend to write it. There's far too many little nitpicky things I would have to address if I did in order to actually make it believably work with the way I designed this story, and I just feel like that would retract too much from what I wanted this fic to be. I know I'll probably get some comments on this, and that's fine. I welcome opinions. I just wanted to give my side of it.
I really hope that all made sense. I'm not always good at explaining myself :)

So, anyway, depending on what happens when I start the next chapter, there is every chance that this could turn out to be the second to last chapter. It's either second to last or third to last, but I just thought I'd say it so that in case the ending does come next week, it doesn't creep up on anyone :)

Onward!

CHAPTER 24

In the end, things seemed to happen in much the way that Owyn had said they would. Three days after having arrived at the cave—two since Merlin had woken up the first time—the warlock's voice began to return. It was still nowhere near as strong as it had once been, but progress was still progress, no matter how small the amount. However, much to his servant's frustration, he and Owyn had still told him not to talk too much. Of course, Merlin being Merlin, he had pretty much chosen to defy them whenever he could get away with it, which pretty much equated to one-word answers, one-word comments, and occasionally a few witty (insolent) remarks, all whispered but still very audible.

Apparently two days of not being able to say anything had pushed him well past his capacity for silence, and though he would never admit to it, Arthur was almost grateful for that. He wasn't used to Merlin being so quiet, and even though there had been times in the past where he had desperately wished for a way to just make the boy shut up for a few minutes, he genuinely missed the mindless prattle, the cheerful chatter, and the friendly banter. It just felt like something was missing without it. It was funny in a way just how quickly his attitude had changed (though to be honest, he suspected that it hadn't really changed at all but that he had simply come to accept a great deal of things that he hadn't been willing to acknowledge before, and perhaps one day he'd even be able to say them aloud without tripping over the words).

As Arthur carefully picked through the supplies they had left in order to find some bandages—Merlin would need to have his changed soon—he began to wonder how much longer they would be staying in their makeshift shelter. It would probably be only another day or so before the warlock was well enough to ride. However, there were two problems with setting out for Camelot anytime soon. One was that the trip back would be a long one given they only had one horse and their supplies were running a bit low. The other was that Rordan had yet to meet up with them. That was actually a bit concerning. Was it possible that something had happened, or was it simply taking him longer to sort out the castle's affairs than they had expected? He certainly hoped it was the latter.

Upon finding no more bandages amongst their bags, he also hoped that the man would come fully equipped with not only food but medical supplies as well. They were starting to run low on rather a lot of things actually (hunting was always an option for food, of course, but it was rather difficult to catch anything without traps or a crossbow. A sword could only do so much). Before setting off for Camelot, they would have to try and stock up on as much as they could, which would probably consist mostly of water, berries, and nuts—not the greatest selection, but beggars can't be choosers. Hopefully they'd be able to stop in a village along the way and get at least one decent meal and a good night's sleep while on the road.

"Find any?"

Arthur turned towards Owyn as the guard walked up behind him, peering over his shoulder at the bag he had been digging through.

"No."

"Well, no worries. I'm sure Rordan will bring some."

"Shouldn't he be here by now?"

"Not necessarily. It depends on how much had to be done. Remember, he's not only making sure everything turns out alright now that Barragh's gone, but he's also looking for a way to get that brace off of Merlin. Researching can take a while."

"I suppose so," Arthur agreed half-heartedly. He was about to go back to rummaging through their supplies when the sound of footsteps drew his and Owyn's attention. They looked back at the cave only to see Merlin standing at the mouth of it. Arthur was fairly certain they had told him not to move; after all, he still wasn't in the greatest shape, but in all honestly, the prince wasn't surprised. In addition to "not talking," Merlin was also fairly bad at "not moving" as well. Despite being a servant, he had never quite mastered the art of standing still. Even during council meetings, he always seemed to find a way to fidget even if it was only shifting his weight.

Plus, Merlin was simply bad at listening to orders. Arthur had learned that rather early on, and it wasn't something that had gotten any better over time. He rarely did as he was told. They honestly shouldn't have expected anything different from him just because he wasn't at full health.

"Merlin, I thought I told you to stay put," said Arthur, part exasperated and part concerned with just a little bit of amusement. The look his servant gave him only made it harder to fight the grin that was tugging at the corners of his mouth. Despite leaning heavily against the cave wall for support, Merlin looked every bit as disgruntled and defiant as he probably felt.

"Wanted some air," he responded shortly, his voice still rather hoarse. Three words was an improvement though. Perhaps tomorrow he'd be able to say an entire sentence without having to swallow in between the words (Arthur had given up on telling him not to talk seeing as how it hadn't done much good).

He and Owyn watched as the warlock very carefully moved outside the cave and then proceeded to lower himself to the ground. In the end he managed it without any help, choosing to sit with his upper back resting against the packed rocks and dirt behind him. It probably wasn't the most comfortable position to be in, but leaning back like that would keep the pressure off of his wounds, which were mostly below his shoulder blades. His back was healing much more slowly than before, and even though the wounds had closed up nicely, they were still a bit tender. The pain could be numbed with the help of salve and potions, but it couldn't be taken away entirely.

"You certainly are a stubborn one," Owyn said as he walked over to the warlock, ruffling his hair a bit. Merlin shot the guard a look, but it was rather hard to take him seriously when a grin was slowly spreading across his face. Arthur couldn't help but smile at the sight, grinning even more as the boy reached up to try and pat his hair back down. It faded rather quickly, however, when he saw the warlock freeze in place, eyes drifting to the band of metal below his elbow. Merlin's expression instantly fell as he lowered his arm and simply stared at the brace. Arthur wasn't sure if he had ever seen such a melancholy expression on that face before.

Not for the first time, he couldn't help but wonder if the brace was somehow hurting the warlock in some way. Just what did it feel like to be cut off from one's magic? He got the feeling that even if Merlin were in a position to explain it to him properly, he probably wouldn't understand. He knew very little about magic, and that included how it felt to use it, to have it, to exist alongside it. He had never thought too much about it before, had never bothered to learn anything about it aside from what his father had told him, but things were different now. He wanted to learn. If he was one day going to change the laws of Camelot, then he needed to know as much about magic as he could. He wanted to understand his people—all of his people—and that included those with magic.

He would give them a home, a place in his kingdom. He would make sure that none of them had to fear for their lives again.

"Don't worry, Merlin," said Owyn, his voice snapping both the warlock and the prince out of their thoughts. It seemed that he had noticed Merlin's sudden melancholy as well. "We'll find a way to get it off, I promise. Believe me, if anyone can figure it out, it's Rordan."

At almost the exact moment that those words left his lips, the sound of footsteps began to drift into the clearing, accompanied by the rustling of fallen leaves. All three of them tensed up, both Owyn and Arthur reaching for their swords just in case whatever it was turned out to be unfriendly. However, their caution proved to be for naught when a familiar face emerged from the trees and stepped into the small valley.

"Well, speak of the devil," Owyn mused as he moved away from the cave in order to meet their visitor halfway. "Rordan! Aren't you a sight for sore eyes. It's good to see you."

"You as well," the man responded with a smile, pulling his friend in for a brief one-armed hug. He walked a bit further into their temporary campsite before setting his two bags down next to the others. Two bags, which probably meant both medical supplies and food, much like Arthur had been hoping for. A couple more blankets would certainly be nice too, a sleeping roll even better—not that he was expecting one (beggars and choosers and all that).

Once he was done, Rordan took a quick look around their small dwelling, his eyes landing on Merlin first. Arthur just watched as the two of them grinned at each other, a silent conversation being shared with just a single look. There was a great deal of relief there on both their parts, as well as joy and understanding, and while watching them, he once again found himself truly fascinated by these people and their sheer capacity for compassion. They genuinely cared. There was absolutely nothing in it for them as he had once pointed out only for Owyn to actually agree with him. They had even gone out of their way and had even risked their lives to help both him and Merlin without expecting anything in return. People like that were rare, and yet for some reason he surprisingly found himself surrounded by them. Even in Camelot there were people like that by his side.

Perhaps he was just lucky, or maybe compassion simply wasn't as hard to find as he had once believed it to be. Either way, he couldn't help but think of it as something truly remarkable.

Once Rordan was done with his brief visual survey of his surroundings, Owyn quickly jumped right into addressing the things that all of them had been waiting for.

"So, how'd it go?" he asked, making his way over to a nearby stump and proceeding to make himself comfortable before giving the other guard his full attention. Apparently he was expecting a long conversation, and so Arthur decided to follow his example (for once) and walked over to where Merlin was sitting before settling himself down just a couple feet away. He shared a brief look with the warlock before the two of them gave Rordan their full attention.

"As well as could be expected, I suppose," he said. "We were able to subdue Barragh's followers."

"All of them?" Arthur asked, wanting to know for sure. The last thing they needed was some revenge-seeking twat coming after them.

"Yes. We outnumbered them almost ten to one, so it wasn't that difficult. They certainly put up a good fight though."

"So then what happens now? What will you do with them?" It couldn't be an easy situation to be in for any of them. It was kind of like being at a stalemate in a way. Would they simply leave Barragh's men locked up? Would the rest of the guards just all go home? If they did, then what about the ones that had followed Barragh? Leaving them to starve to death and rot in the cells seemed a bit inhumane for such kindhearted people, but it's not like they could simply release them either. It was unlikely that those men would just ignore everything that had happened. One of them could very well continue their lord's work. It also wasn't likely that they'd simply forgive and forget. Odds were that the other guards would be hunted down and killed for their past discretions.

"Well, if all goes according to plan, they'll be charged with treason," Rordan explained, "or at the very least conspiring in an act of treason."

"Treason?" He knew that Barragh had been power hungry, but had it really escalated that far?

"Yes. It's no secret that Barragh was creating weapons for his own purposes. He had every intention of seizing the kingdom for himself. When the king finds out the truth, he'll put a stop to it."

That sounded just fine and all, but if there was one thing that Arthur understood, it was the way the law often worked within a kingdom. Barragh, however insane, had been a nobleman. It was unlikely that his passing would be taken well, and even if his treasonous acts were to come to light and be believed, there was nothing stopping the fingers that would undoubtedly be pointed.

"But what's to keep him from placing the blame on all the guards?" he asked, needing to know, because their dilemma was in part his fault. Barragh had died by his hand. He had essentially lifted one weight off their shoulders only to replace it with another. "You could all be tried for treason."

"Ah, that's where I come in."

Arthur turned to look at Owyn as the man jumped into the conversation with a rather self-satisfied and unconcerned smile on his face.

"I've told you before," he began, "that I'm a noble, and before Barragh came along, my family had quite a bit of influence—well, our name did, anyway. Over the years, I've been keeping a record of everything that Barragh was doing behind the king's back—who he sold to, what he was planning—including who was working with him and who was being held 'prisoner.' Before I left, I made sure that everything was in order and that someone would be able to deliver it on my behalf. The king will take my word for it. He may be a bit power hungry at times, but he's a fair, reasonable man."

Thank goodness. The prince heaved a sigh, relief washing over him. He had been worried there for a moment. The last thing he wanted to do was cause trouble for these people. They had all been kind to both him and Merlin, and he would have hated it if that kindness ended up being returned with an execution order. He just wasn't the type of person who could stand by and allow innocent people to be punished for someone else's wickedness. Had it come down to it, he would have petitioned their king to pardon them. If he was truly a reasonable and fair man, then he surely would have taken Arthur's word for what really occurred.

When he finally brought his attention back to the two guards before him, he found them both staring at him with a knowing look and a smile. It was rather unnerving, even more so than usual, because where as he had come to accept the fact that Owyn just seemed to know everything (or could somehow read his mind), he wasn't used to getting that look from two people at the same time.

"What?" he asked a bit defensively, fighting the urge to shift uncomfortably. He was kind of hoping that his scowl would deter the two of them, but it only seemed to add to their amusement.

"You really are a good man," Owyn said, sounding rather satisfied. Those words were rather familiar. He was pretty sure that the guard had said something to him like that before. He was about to comment on it (because if he was saying it like that, then clearly a part of him had still doubted it to an extent), but he never got the chance, because the rest of what Owyn had to say left him nearly speechless. "It's a rare thing for someone of your status to be so concerned about the affairs of another kingdom, let alone for a group of strangers who are essentially peasants by birth. You have a lot of compassion—a good trait for a future king. Don't ever lose that."

He didn't know what to say. He hadn't been expecting that—and wasn't it funny how he had so easily labeled these people as compassionate but yet hadn't even thought to apply the term to himself. He just hadn't viewed himself or his actions as being on par with the type of selfless acts he had seen in the last few weeks or that he had witnessed countless times before from Merlin. One glance at his servant told him that the warlock was in complete agreement with Owyn, the smile on his face having a very "I told you so" tint to it.

Why was it that he could so easily see something in another but was unable to see the same thing in himself?

He wasn't entirely sure if he deserved such praise, but he knew what would happen if he tried to question it, and so he saved himself the trouble and didn't bother to. His silence only seemed to add to their amusement, much to his chagrin, but thankfully they didn't focus on it for long thanks to Owyn. If there was one thing the man was good at, it was directing a conversation.

"So, Rordan," he began, his jovial grin fading to be replaced with a look that was a little more grave, "what did you find out about that brace?"

From the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Merlin flinch, the warlock's eyes immediately locking onto Rordan. It was easy to see how nervous that simple question had made him. Hope and dread warred across his face in equal measure as he waited to hear about whatever fate was awaiting him.

"Well…" the guard began, trailing off a bit as he fiddled with a small pouch at his side, looking both sad and nervous, "nothing definite, I'm afraid. There is a way to simply take it off, but it seems that Barragh really was the only one who knew how. We even questioned Neirin, but he didn't know anything either."

Arthur was tempted to ask what he meant by "questioned" but quickly decided that he would just rather not know.

"I feared as much," Owyn sighed. "Barragh was the one who made it, after all. Despite being a complete madman, he was brilliant."

"So then what are we supposed to do?" Arthur asked, once again glancing at Merlin and hating the rather disheartened look he found on the warlock's face. "There has to be some way to get it off."

"Well, as far as I can tell, there are two ways," Rordan said. "The first would be to negate the magic. If there's nothing for it to react to, then it should just come off. However…" His dark eyes shifted to meet Merlin's. "I get the feeling that's not an option."

Merlin simply nodded in agreement, which only bothered the prince more.

"Why?" he asked, needing to understand why such a suggestion was being treated as an impossibility.

"Merlin's magic is too deeply ingrained," Owyn cut in, and Arthur assumed that he had taken it upon himself to answer due to the fact that Merlin had just been in the process of opening his mouth to try. Unfortunately for the warlock, it was a bit beyond his capabilities at the moment seeing as how it would take more than just two or three words to explain, much to the warlock's annoyance. "It's no different than blood or breath. The only way to fully negate it would probably be to kill him, and I think it's rather obvious why that's not an option."

Arthur swallowed thickly as those words sunk in. Just one look to the side was enough to tell him that every one was true. The warlock had averted his eyes to the ground as he twisted the hem of his white shirt in his hands. Magic was a part of him, just as natural and vital as the blood flowing through his veins. It wasn't something that could be forgotten or denied, and even though it could be tempered to a degree, it could never be fully restrained. For him it was purely instinct, a way to live, and yet he had been forced to hide it, to pretend it wasn't there, to exist as something less than what he was.

He didn't look the part. Sitting there like that, he looked nothing like a powerful practitioner of magic, but he was, and now that Arthur knew the truth, it was easy to see the toll that Camelot and its laws had taken on him. There was a weariness there, one that had probably always been there, hidden behind everything else that Merlin constantly put forward but never disappearing completely.

He wanted to erase it.

It could very well take years, perhaps even decades, but one day it would disappear. He'd make sure of it.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he turned back to Rordan and waited for the man to continue. He had said there were two possible ways to remove the brace, but so far he had only mentioned one. Seeing as how the first was impossible, the second was their only choice.

"What's the other way?" he asked, and much to his surprise, Rordan looked even more nervous about his next suggestion.

"The only other way is to force it off."

"But I thought that wasn't possible." He was pretty sure that Owyn had said it couldn't be done.

"It isn't, not by any normal means, but…we might be able to with this."

Opening the pouch that hung at his side, Rordan carefully pulled out a single metal band.

The reaction was immediate. Owyn sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes widening a bit in realization while Arthur simply looked on in confusion, and Merlin…

Merlin flinched back so violently that his head smacked into the rocks behind him. Whether he had hit it hard enough to hurt himself or not, the sharp thud was enough to draw all their attention.

He looked terrified.

"No," he said, his voice catching. He tried to move back, to get away, but the wall behind him made that rather difficult.

He didn't care.

He would do anything to get away from that.

"Merlin?"

He shook his head, his eyes never straying from the piece of metal that Rordan held in his hand. He knew that thing, knew it far better than he had ever wanted to. Its presence may as well have been burned into him; for as long as he lived, he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to forget it. Barragh had made certain of that.

He had spent three days screaming because of that brace. Just the sight of it was enough to narrow his field of vision, to block everything out except for the memory of that cell and the man who had taken great pleasure in his agony, who had only ever removed that horrific piece of metal when the risk of death became too great. There had been times where he had become so desperate in his pain that he had tried to tear it off, had dug his nails so far into his arm that the skin broke and bled, but nothing had helped. Nothing had been able to relieve him of that terrible pain, that feeling of being torn apart from the inside.

He had spent much of the third day begging for it to just end, either the pain or himself. At that time he hadn't cared which. He had pleaded until the words were no longer there, until his voice failed along with everything else.

"No," he begged, ignoring the hands on his shoulders that were trying to hold him still, trying to grab his attention. "No, please…"

He couldn't do it, not again. This time he really would break.

"Merlin."

That familiar, commanding but concerned tone was enough to pull him away for a moment, to break through the blind panic that had washed over him. He was no longer in that room, no longer trapped with his tormentor. Barragh was dead. Arthur had killed him. There was no one left to hurt him, because the people who had risked their lives for him—his friends—never would. He tried to focus, to pull himself back, and when the world finally filtered in around him again, he found that it was Arthur who had grabbed his shoulder. His grip was firm enough to keep him still but not enough to hurt. He used that to ground himself as he willed his body and mind to calm down.

It wasn't until a few moments later that he realized that it wasn't just Arthur in front of him. Rordan was there too, his hands thankfully empty as he knelt down in front of the warlock.

"Merlin," the guard called, his voice soft and calming and perhaps just a little bit guilty. "Just listen to me for a moment, alright?"

It took him a while, but eventually Merlin was able to nod his head once to show that he was indeed listening.

"I don't want to hurt you. I won't make you do anything you don't want to, I swear it, but I know you want that brace off, and this might be the only way."

He swallowed hard, trying to find what little he had of his voice again. A part of him knew that those words were true, that there really was no other way. Barragh had explained (gloated about) it to him once. That band could not be removed by any physical means or with any magic. He had known how to place and remove it at will, but whatever secret that involved had died alongside its creator. Whatever Rordan had discovered was likely the only possibility left.

But at that point Merlin would have almost preferred to just sever his arm entirely.

Almost.

"You do want it off, don't you?" Rordan asked. At least that decision was simple. The empty feeling in the pit of his stomach, that feeling that there was something missing—he hated it. He wanted his magic back; he needed it. Without his magic, he couldn't do anything. Without it, he couldn't protect Arthur, couldn't help him, and no matter what it came down to, he would suffer through whatever was necessary for the sake of his friend.

It was his duty to protect Camelot, his destiny to become the most powerful sorcerer that the world has ever known, and he couldn't do that without his magic. It felt too much like a part of him was missing.

"Yes." More than anything. He truly loved his magic. He would do almost anything to get it back.

"Then will you at least try it?"

He would. What other choice did he have? If it meant freeing his magic, he would do whatever was necessary.

"…Tomorrow."

Even though he was terrified, he would at least try. For Arthur and for Camelot.

For himself.

"Alright. Tomorrow it is."

A/N: I guess this is sort of a cliffhanger. It's nowhere near as evil as some of them though :) I do hope this chapter helped to answer a few questions about the braces. There's more to come on that next time, and like I said before, the next chapter might end up being the last. It'll all depend on what happens when I start writing it. After all, this part was only supposed to take up half a chapter, and instead it ended up being 4,600 words. If there's one thing I've learned about myself while I've been on this site, it's that I fail at estimating :)

Anyway, I just want to thank you all again for sticking with me, and I hope you're all still enjoying the story. Thank you for all the kind words and just for reading this fic. I've been having a lot of fun with it, and it's grown into something I never expected it to, so thank you :)

As always, if you saw any mistakes, please feel free to point them out, and I shall fix them post haste :)

Until next week!