A/N: So, as it turns out, this is actually the second to last chapter. I wasn't able to cram everything that's left into this one (plus, I really liked the way this one ended :) That being said, the next chapter will definitely be the final one, no matter how long it ends up being. My final chapters are always about twice as long as the rest. Might as well stick with tradition :)

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, this chapter pretty much answers the question that a lot of people asked me last time. Also, if any of you remember back around chapter 2, I had posed the question of what metal Merlin's brace was made of. Well, you finally get to find out. It dawned on me while writing this chapter that I had yet to even mention it, which actually resulted in me having to rewrite a good part of the dialogue at the beginning, but oh well. It worked out just fine in the end :)

Onward!

CHAPTER 25

After the initial panic had finally died away, it became rather obvious to them all that Merlin had managed to exhaust himself, though the warlock did his best to deny it. Unfortunately for him, Arthur wasn't having it, and so between the prince and Rordan, they were able to get him back into the cave where he could rest. Despite his constant protesting (which mostly involved glaring at them with varying degrees of irritation, though Arthur thought his expression more closely resembled a form of pouting) it didn't take long for him to fall asleep.

Initially the prince had been rather concerned about how much time Merlin had spent sleeping over the last few days, but Owyn had been quick to reassure him that such a thing was natural. Rest was the best way for a body to heal, and seeing as how most of the potions they had given him to reduce his pain also came with the side effect of drowsiness, it was really no surprise that he had spent the majority of his time with them asleep. Plus as long as he was sleeping, he couldn't talk, which meant his voice would return faster, and the sooner it did, the sooner the two of them could talk.

Arthur still had a lot of questions, after all.

As soon as Merlin was settled, he and Rordan made their way back outside where Owyn was still sitting, fiddling with the metal brace in his hands. Now that it was just the three of them, he had some questions, the first one being the most obvious.

"So," he began as he took a seat against the outer wall of the cave, "what is that thing anyway?"

He wanted to know exactly what they intended to do with it and why Merlin had panicked upon seeing it.

"It's sort of like a magic amplifier," Owyn said as he spun it around his finger a few times. "Originally it was designed to help sorcerers learn how to draw upon their magic. It pulls it to the surface, so to speak, making it easier to reach, and it can often draw up more power than a sorcerer can access on their own. It's a good training device, but it can be dangerous. Barragh preferred to use it as a form of torture."

"How?" How could something meant to help be used in such a way? When he saw the look that crossed Owyn's face and found a similar expression on Rordan's, he suddenly wasn't sure if he really wanted to know. They both looked decidedly uncomfortable if not a little sickened by the answer.

"Well," Owyn began, ceasing his fiddling with the piece of metal, "when coupled with that orihalcon brace that Merlin's wearing—something that limits and forces down a person's magic—it creates a feeling similar to being torn apart from the inside…or at least that's what I've been told."

Arthur swallowed rather hard at the thought. He could scarcely imagine how something like that felt, but just the idea of it was enough to make him feel rather sick and more than a little angry. Barragh had used that thing on Merlin; he knew that for a fact. On that day that Arthur had learned about his friend's magic, the weapons dealer had put a brace on the boy's arm that had made him cry out in what had sounded like absolute, indescribable agony, and after dragging him off and putting him in that room, he had probably done it again and again. He had terrorized him with it to the point where just the sight of it had been enough to make the warlock panic. Merlin had looked terrified. Never before had he seen an expression like that on his servant's face.

It wasn't fair. Even after his death, Barragh was still managing to cause harm. What would it take for them to finally be rid of him?

Doing his best to calm down, the prince tried to relax as he went back through what he had been told, because there were still a few things he didn't understand. One happened to be a specific word that Owyn had said, one that he had never heard before, which was rather surprising given his father's extreme dislike of magic.

Surely if there was some kind of material in the world that could take away a sorcerer's magic, the king would have told him about it.

"Orihalcon?" he asked, curious.

"It's an extremely rare metal that has the natural ability to seal in magic," Owyn explained, his earlier discomfort having eased a bit. "It can be pretty useful, actually, if used the right way. There are some creatures, as well as some sorcerers, who can sense powerful magic, so if you wanted to hide something magical from them, using orihalcon would probably be the most efficient way."

He paused for a moment before looking directly at the prince, his gaze softening from what could only be sadness.

"I don't think I need to explain to you how else it could be used."

No, he really didn't. It was rather obvious given Merlin's condition.

One of the many problems that non-magical people faced when it came to detaining sorcerers was figuring out a way around their magic. Sure, you could lock them up and put them under guard—even with their magic, they could still be outnumbered, and a sword to the chest was just as lethal to sorcerers as it was to everyone else—but there was no guarantee that they wouldn't be able to escape eventually. Also, if a sorcerer was particularly powerful, then there was a good chance that they simply couldn't be detained. Therefore, it would be of great use to have something that could seal away their magic so that no harm could be done. It would certainly make things easier.

He could definitely see the benefits of using something like orihalcon…but at the same time he understood the kind of harm it could cause. If someone like his father were to ever discover it…

Well, he wouldn't. Arthur had absolutely no intention of mentioning any of this to him. Even if it could prove useful, the consequences would be too great. The king would likely gather the metal relentlessly and then hunt down any sorcerers he could find. Too much innocent blood would be spilled; there was no way he could allow that, not after having learned the truth. Even if there was nothing he could do to change the laws while his father was still king, at the very least he would try not to make matters any worse than they already were. There would be no aid from him. Unless a sorcerer had truly committed a crime, he would no longer hunt them. Orders or not, he would not spill innocent blood.

"Well, all questions of ethical, unethical uses aside," Owyn began, drawing Arthur away from his inner musings and back towards the conversation at hand, "I must admit that I'm quite curious about your plan, Rordan. I honestly don't understand how something like this could possibly help."

"Finally, something you don't know." Arthur was pretty sure that he had only half meant to say that, but in the end the words had escaped him anyway. Owyn turned to him with a look that would have been a scowl if not for the amused glint he could see on the man's face.

He got the feeling he'd be paying for that comment later.

"Well…" Rordan trailed off a little nervously, apparently choosing to ignore that last exchange of words, "it's more of a theory, really."

The uncertainty in his voice was enough to draw the two of them back rather quickly, curious and a little worried about exactly what this plan entailed. Once he had their complete attention again, Rordan was quick to continue.

"There's no guarantee it'll actually work, but it was the only thing I could think of. This brace and the orihalcon one are opposites. One pushes magic down while the other pulls it up. The idea is to put them next to each other instead of on opposite arms. When in such close proximity to each other, the pressure from the constant push and pull of magic should be enough to break the orihalcon."

"You don't sound too certain," said Arthur, both in question and accusation.

"That's because I'm not. I told you, it's only a theory, and with anyone else, I'm sure it wouldn't work, but Merlin's magic is different. He's been able to use it even with that brace on. His magic is so great that if it were to all be pulled up so suddenly and so closely to the orihalcon brace, it should be enough to force it off at the very least."

Upon hearing all that, the prince very quickly decided that the first thing he was going to ask Merlin once the warlock got his voice back was what exactly it was about him that made him so different. He knew that his servant was powerful—Barragh had been pretty adamant about that—but what he really wanted to know was why. Why was he so different from other sorcerers? What made his magic different? How had he achieved such a thing being as young as he is?

Why was it that Merlin seemed to be the exception to every rule?

There had to be a reason, and he had every intention of finding out.

"It's a bit of a gamble, really," Owyn noted while absentmindedly turning the brace around and around in his hands. Arthur watched as his expression shifted from contemplative to something almost resigned. The guard merely shrugged as his lips pulled into a very small, brief grin. "But I guess it's all we've got."

The prince wasn't quite so convinced on the matter.

"And if it doesn't work?" he asked, because he didn't want to hold out too much hope for a solution that had no guarantees, that was essentially nothing more than a mere theory based on pure conjecture. He needed to know that even if things went horribly wrong that there was still hope.

"We'll come up with something," Rordan told him, and whereas he hadn't been sure about his own idea, he seemed entirely certain about that. "One way or another, we will figure it out."

Despite all his reservations, the prince could feel his body slowly relaxing against the rocks behind him, his doubts being laid to rest for the moment. Even though no solution had truly been offered, he found himself a lot more at ease. What was funny about it though was that it had really only taken one word to reassure him.

We…

Even amidst so much uncertainty, he couldn't help but feel like things would work out alright in the end—not only with this, but with him and Merlin as well.

It was a nice feeling, not being alone.

As far as Merlin was concerned, tomorrow came far, far too soon. He would have been perfectly happy if it had decided to hold off for another couple of hours…or a couple of weeks. Weeks sounded a lot better, but somewhere around "never" would have been just perfect (he knew it was impossible, but there certainly wasn't a rule against dreaming, now was there). Severing his arm was starting to look more and more like a viable option every second, but he knew that no one else would agree with him.

As badly as he wanted to be able to use his magic freely again, this was quite possibly the last thing he wanted to do. Even after Rordan had explained everything to him that morning, he still didn't want to do it. Sure, it made sense how it was supposed to work, but he really didn't want to come anywhere near that horrible piece of metal ever again. They had also informed him that they weren't even sure if this was actually going to work, which only made things worse. If he was going to have to suffer again, he at least wanted something good to come from it. Was that too much to ask?

If this didn't work, he was going to tell them to just cut it off. He was pretty sure they wouldn't listen to him, but he was willing to try it anyway. He could probably get by with just one arm; he had magic, after all (and yes, he was aware that that thought was perhaps just a touch hysterical, but given what he was being forced to do, he couldn't bring himself to care).

He was at least grateful that they hadn't rushed him or pressured him too much. They had allowed him to wake up on his own time instead of shaking him awake, and they had even offered him breakfast first, which he had had to unfortunately turn down. He definitely didn't want to end up getting sick, and if he went in on a full stomach, he was pretty sure he would. He'd much rather wait and eat afterwards when he could actually enjoy the food and not have to worry about it showing up again only a couple hours later.

After refusing breakfast, his three friends had sat down with him in order to tell him exactly what the plan was, down to the last detail. Rordan had even demonstrated how to get the second brace off, which pretty much just involved taking a finger and circling a few of the runes on it in a certain sequence. It was a great deal easier to remove than his brace, that was for sure, which was rather unfair in his opinion. Naturally, nothing could ever just be easy for him—his first week in Camelot had proven that rather soundly.

After all the explanations, they had decided that it would be best to be outside just in case anything went wrong, and so they had helped him walk out of the cave and over towards the center of their little clearing. He had tried to tell them that he could walk on his own, but his protests had fallen on deaf ears. It certainly didn't help that his voice still wasn't very strong, but at least he could finally manage more than just a couple of words here and there. However, he got the feeling that all that progress was about to be wiped away. Rordan had tried to insist that it wouldn't hurt quite as much this time around, but he wasn't entirely sure if he believed that. After all, it wouldn't be the first time someone had tricked him like that (Gaius was certainly rather good at it, always telling him that it "won't hurt much" when patching up an injury. He was always wrong, and maybe one day Merlin would stop falling for such a simple trick).

Heaving a deep sigh, half out of exasperation and half in an attempt to calm himself down, Merlin stared up at the specks of blue sky and sunlight that he could see through the treetops while wondering what he had ever done to deserve something like this.

"Are you ready?" Rordan asked, drawing the warlock's attention. They were all standing around him, watching and waiting, and he rather hated it. He didn't want anyone to see, but he knew that it would be impossible to make them leave. It would also be unwise, because without them there, he probably wouldn't be able to take the other brace off. He needed them there regardless of whether he wanted them there or not.

No, he though to himself, wanting to say it aloud, but he held his tongue. If he wanted his magic back, then he needed to at least try, and so despite every fiber of his being telling him to get away, to not let that thing come anywhere near him, he nodded his head and gave his consent.

Rordan knelt down next to him, expression full of sympathy.

"I'm sorry about this," he said. "If it doesn't work, I promise I'll take it off right away, alright?"

"Alright," Merlin whispered back, still terrified but doing his best not to be.

The warlock watched as Rordan took a deep breath before reaching towards his right arm. He rolled the baggy sleeve up until it was well past the elbow, exposing the other brace in all its magic-binding glory. If this actually worked and the damnable thing really popped off, he was throwing it into the brook. The water could just carry it all the way out to sea where it would remain lost forever more.

He was rather fond of that idea.

With only a moment more of hesitation, Rordan met his eyes to make certain that he was ready for what was coming. With one final nod, the guard took the brace and clamped it around his arm right next to the other.

Apparently the guard really hadn't been trying to trick him. True to his word, it didn't hurt as much as the last time.

However, it still hurt.

As his magic rushed to the surface, straining against the force that was continuously trying to keep it down, his body began to feel like it was on fire. His back arched against his will, his fingers digging into the ground beneath him, and although it took a great deal of effort, he didn't scream. Instead he clenched his teeth and kept his mouth firmly shut, doing all he could to endure it. The fact that he had enough will to do even that much was a true testament to how different this time was from all the rest. When Barragh had been torturing him, everything had blurred together, and all he had been able to register was the pain. Every word he had spoken during that time had been said in the midst of screaming, each one loud and desperate as he cried out for mercy. He hadn't been able to control himself at all.

Just that thought alone was almost enough to make him start panicking again, to give in to the fear and the pain, but he didn't want to. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Things were different this time. No one was torturing him, no one was laughing, no one was mocking him. This time around the agony wasn't all consuming. This time it was concentrated, manageable.

This time he could endure it, and he would endure it.

Feeling his magic roiling through him, leaving a searing heat behind, Merlin tried to reach for it. If he could maybe somehow get a hold of it, then perhaps he'd even be able to help the process along. All he had to do was pull it forward, create enough pressure to overpower the orihalcon brace. Rordan had told him that if anyone could make his farfetched plan work, it was him, and so he was going to do his best to try. Even though it hurt, even though it felt like someone was trying to toss him into a raging fire, he wouldn't give up.

He wanted his magic back. He was more than sick of this.

As the warlock did his best to hold on and make things work out the way he wanted them to, he was completely unaware of the effect his efforts were having. Unbeknownst to him, the runes on the two braces were glowing, their light growing brighter and brighter by the second. Around him, Rordan, Owyn, and Arthur continued to watch, waiting for something to happen, for there to be a clear sign that their plan either was or wasn't going to work. However, aside from the ever increasing light, they had nothing to go off of.

Clenching his fists tightly at his sides, Arthur resolved himself to wait, even though all he really wanted to do was put an end to it. Even though Merlin didn't seem to be in anywhere near the kind of pain he had been in before, it was obvious that it still hurt a great deal. His eyes had closed almost immediately and they hadn't opened since, shut tight and creased at the corners. He had also locked his jaw, his teeth most likely grinding together behind pursed lips as he did everything in his power not to let anything escape from his mouth, not to make a single sound, but every once in a while a pained noise would slip past without his consent, betraying the real pain he was in.

The prince hated it. He hated only being able to stand by and watch. He wanted to do something, anything, even if it turned out to be pointless. Above everything else, he despised being helpless.

Arthur had no idea how much time had passed when he finally opened his mouth to say something, but he was pretty sure it was nowhere near as long as it felt.

"Well?" he asked, directing his query at Rordan. He needed to know whether or not this was working.

The guard glanced up at him, their eyes meeting for but a moment before his full concentration was back on the warlock again. Despite the anxiety he could see there, those dark eyes were entirely focused. It was as if he was searching for something, unwilling to take his eyes away for fear that he might miss it.

"Come on…" Rordan whispered encouragingly, impatiently, and Arthur found himself turning his attention back to Merlin, back to the two braces whose runes were now glowing even brighter. He watched closely, waiting for something to happen—he was willing to take just about anything at this point—but in the end it wasn't so much what he saw but what he heard.

Cracking.

Something was cracking. With all the light in the way, he couldn't see which one it was.

The sound came again and again, growing louder each time, and they all waited with baited breath to see what would happen, to find out which force would prevail. It was almost like a battle of wills. That orihalcon brace was the last remnant of Barragh's will, his desire to own and control, while Merlin was trying to overcome it, to set both himself and his magic free.

In the end, which one of them would persevere?

Only a moment later he received his answer.

With one final, resonating crack, one light faded, and in its place were two pieces of a single brace, one made of a metal that looked like silver but was anything but. They watched as the two halves hung on rather innocently before slipping from their place just below the elbow of a somewhat pale right arm.

"Yes!" came a delighted cheer from the most jovial of them, a wide grin spreading across his face, one that Arthur found himself mirroring not a moment later.

It was gone.

The orihalcon brace was gone. They all watched as it fell to the ground.

…And in the next moment, the three of them were suddenly halfway across the clearing.

Arthur groaned as he lay there on the ground, his back having taken most of the blow (though thankfully not his head, because the last thing he wanted to be right now was unconscious). Everything hurt, and when he tried to open his eyes, he found that the world was spinning a bit, so he quickly closed them again to avoid the bout of nausea that was sure to follow.

"Are you alright, Arthur? Owyn?" he heard Rordan call, the guard sounding just as bad as he probably felt.

"I think so." He had actually been leaning more towards something like "probably not," but the pain would most likely pass soon enough, or at least he hoped it would.

"Haven't experienced that in a while," came Owyn's equally as strained but slightly more amused response (surely it had to be a gift, the way he almost always managed to come off sounding like he was enjoying the circumstances just a little no matter how ridiculous they seemed to be). The prince wanted to take a look around and make sure they were all alright, that nothing too terrible had happened, but his body was still trying to recover from the rather sudden blow it had taken.

Just what the hell happened? One moment he had been standing there, rejoicing in the fact that one of their final obstacles had finally been overcome, and then the next he had been flying through the air only to slam into the ground on the other side of the clearing. It had all happened so fast that he hadn't even had time to realize what was going on. He couldn't even remember seeing anything. It was almost like a huge gust of wind had suddenly thrown them off their feet, but he knew that wasn't quite it. Honestly, the force that had slammed into him had felt a lot more like a charging horse or a brick wall than anything else. What could have possibly caused something like that?

Deciding that it was time to figure out what was going on, the prince forced his eyes open and waited for his vision to clear. Thankfully the world was no longer spinning, although his body was still rather reluctant to move. Everything was still pretty sore too, but he could deal with that. It wasn't anything he hadn't had to put up with before.

As he slowly sat up, he saw that both Rordan and Owyn were in similar states. They had also been thrown rather far, and Arthur was only then realizing just how far the three of them had actually flown. It's not like the forest valley they had been camping out in was all that big, but it spanned a fairly good distance. The three of them had originally been standing somewhere around the middle, but now they had the tree line at their back (thank goodness they hadn't gone any farther, otherwise they might not have made it through so unscathed).

Rubbing at his shoulder where it had collided rather harshly with the ground, Arthur looked around to see if he could find whatever had attacked them. Nothing appeared to be very forthcoming.

"What the hell…?" he began to ask only to trail off as an unfamiliar sensation washed over him, freezing him in place. It was almost like suddenly being dunked into an ice cold lake but without the discomfort and the biting cold that came with being soaked through. It crept up his arms and across his chest, along the back of his neck and down his spine. For a moment he wondered if maybe it was just a cold breeze passing through, because whatever it was seemed to be capable of ruffling his hair as well. However, if it was some kind of wind, then it was unlike any wind he had ever felt before.

Looking around once more in the hopes of solving at least one mystery, his eyes suddenly fell on something that he hadn't noticed the first time. Back across the valley, sitting in the middle of the clearing with his head in his hands was Merlin. The warlock was still exactly where they had left him, but something didn't seem quite right, and it didn't take long for him to figure out what.

Around his right arm was what looked like a band of light. The runes were glowing so brightly that he could no longer see the metal brace that they adorned.

That sensation passed through him again, this time far more violently than before, and he couldn't suppress the shudder that came with it. As it turned out, he wasn't the only one.

"Does anyone else feel that?" Rordan asked as he slowly got to his feet.

"Yeah," said Owyn as he followed suit, and Arthur was rather quick to follow their example. It would be far easier to do something, like defend themselves, if they were standing.

"But what is it?" he asked, trying to determine where that odd feeling was coming from, but there was nothing in the valley aside from the three of them and Merlin. Unfortunately, it seemed that Rordan and Owyn didn't know the answer either…that is until the wind picked up.

The forest, for the most part, had been very peaceful during the course of their stay there. Nothing had seen fit to bother them, not even the weather. The most that had ever passed through was a soft breeze.

The wind whipping past them at that moment was anything but a "soft breeze."

"Where did all this wind come from?" he called out, having to raise his voice a bit to get it over the roaring of the wind. He wasn't sure whether the two guards had heard him or not, but a quick glance in their direction told him that they were just as lost for an answer as he was. "What the hell is going—?"

Oh.

…Oh.

With a sense of dawning dread, he turned his eyes back to the center of the clearing.

It was like looking at the eye of a storm.

A brace that draws up the magic of a sorcerer…

Though the grass rustled and the branches swayed, everything around Merlin was still.

Arthur could finally put a word to that unfamiliar sensation.

Magic.

There was magic bleeding into the air, magic that had been repressed for well over a month, strained and abused and agitated. It flowed from the warlock like water gushing through a busted dam, crashing down upon them all in waves—pure, untainted, raw magic, manifesting itself as wind.

He suddenly found himself with the answer to both of his questions.

Merlin had been the one to throw them across the clearing, although he was most likely unaware of it. His magic had simply surged upon being released from its cage, and now because of that brace, it was overflowing, rushing to the surface and spilling over, and from the looks of it, the warlock wasn't able to stop it. It was hard to tell if he was even aware of what was going on.

Arthur turned towards Owyn and Rordan, both of the guards having moved closer to him while he had been putting the pieces together, and judging by the looks on their faces, they had arrived at the same realization.

They had placed a magic amplifying brace on a sorcerer with the potential to raze kingdoms.

"…Oh," Owyn said, his voice echoing the prince's thoughts before being drawn away into the wind.

They really hadn't thought this through.

"…Damn."

Yes, Arthur agreed as he prepared himself to weather the storm. That pretty much sums it up, doesn't it?

Hindsight was truly a wretched thing.

A/N: Well, that was fun :) I hope you all enjoyed the second to last chapter of this fic. Man, and I had originally pegged this story to be about 15 chapters. Honestly, I should know better by now.

Just want to say one thing here quick before someone decides to comment: So, if you are an RPG gamer and have played things like Final Fantasy, Orihalcon might sound familiar to you. It also appears in the fantasy anime Slayers. And no, I did not misspell it. And no, I did not mean to write orichalcum. That is a completely different metal. Hopefully that will clear up any and all potential confusion :)

Anyway, thank you again for all the wonderful reviews and all the support you've given me. I honestly can't thank you enough. To all who are reading, I hope you'll stick with me for one final chapter. I'll do my best to have it up on time :)

Until next week!