A/N: Recently I and anything that needs to be beta'd have not gotten along. It's rather annoying. (Sigh) BUT! Not my beta's fault (or betas', since Shadows was helping with another fic...). I will just post this unbeta'd, but I warn you now I'm not fond of this chapter. Except the end.

Chapter Thirteen

Do you have magic?

How powerful are you?

How long have you studied?

Where did you learn?

What happened the day the prince took Camelot?

What part did Gaius and Lancelot play in that?

Why did you do all this?

Why did you poison Morgana?

Are you playing the servant to get at the prince?

Why do you save the prince and the king?

Why are you loyal to them?

Why would you risk execution?

Why?

Tell me.

Merlin had never heard so many questions in his life. Why was it that the questions threw him off so much, anyway? Was it because he was so used to his secrets staying secret?

Fie, now even he was thinking in questions…

Arthur and Xyla still hadn't spoken another word to each other, no matter how much they were tempted to. Occasionally their eyes would meet across the room, and one or the other would glare at each other, and those times Arthur found her presence very annoying, downright offensive. Sometimes Xyla would give him a curious glance or Arthur would give her a thoughtful one, and then Arthur found her being there infuriating and exasperating. But sometimes Xyla's face was blank, and her eyes were wider than usual and shiny to boot. Those times Merlin's absence was almost tangible, and Arthur was secretly glad he wasn't alone in this cheerless cell.

Arthur had just begun to think that, chains or no chains, he really needed to find a way to escape before he went stir-crazy when Merlin was unceremoniously returned.

The door opened, two guards came in and brought a ray of light from the hall with them. Merlin was being dragged between them and was thrown onto the floor, his shackles still on his arms and his face in the dirty floor.

Xyla leapt to her feet. Arthur tried.

Before Merlin could get up again, the guards had crossed the room and were unchaining Arthur. The prince took this opportunity to punch a guard in the face and try to pull away, but it was two against one and Arthur was sore from being stuck in the same uncomfortable position.

The second guard landed a blow to Arthur's stomach, and he doubled over, his breath flying out of him.

Merlin sat up and got to his feet (he wobbled a bit, though), and decided that he should probably help. His chains didn't slow him down too much, so he rushed over to throw himself on the back of the guard who punched Arthur.

Xyla, standing to the side, would have helped… but she didn't. She wasn't really good at that. Besides, it was pretty obvious how this was going to end.

The guard threw Merlin off of him effortlessly, but the warlock got back to his feet and latched onto the guard again, using his chains to beat at the man. Xyla mentally cheered. Arthur caught his breath quickly and threw himself at the other guard again, and both men fell to the ground.

The guard who Merlin had attacked spun around and used his arms to send Merlin crashing into the wall. Merlin grunted as his head cracked against the stone, biting his lip to keep him from crying out. His eyes shut, his hands were closed into fists, and he fell to the ground. By the time he opened them again a few seconds later, Arthur had been manhandled out of the room and the door was slamming shut.

Silence reigned in the cell.

"Ow," whined Merlin from the floor.

"I really don't pity those guards, having to get him all the way to… wherever they're going," said Xyla, crossing the cell to kneel down by Merlin's side.

"Well, they get paid for it," pointed out Merlin, rubbing his head with a groan. "Ow!"

"You probably have a bump on your head. Don't touch it." Xyla looked him over worriedly for any injuries. "What did Morgause do to you… Oh, Merlin, your face!"

Merlin's blue eyes were still screwed up, waiting until the pain in his head subsided. "Is it bad?" he asked her.

She winced in sympathy. "That's going to be quite a bruise." The bruise coming out on his cheek was already brown and shiny, stretching from his cheekbone to the side of his mouth, where a bit of blood was gathering from where his tooth had dug into his lip. "What… what did she hit you with?"

"Just her hand," said Merlin, trying not to shrug because his head was just beginning to stop hurting, and he didn't want to move just yet. "She got angry when I rolled my eyes at her."

"Merlin!"

"She asked me why I was so loyal to Arthur. Do you realize how many people ask me that?" Heck, this was Morgause's second time asking that… "I didn't mean to."

Xyla frowned. "Did she ask you a lot of questions?"

"Yeah."

Xyla waited.

"I told her."

"You did?"

Merlin nodded and tried to sit up, wincing as he did so. Xyla supported him. "I think she knew a lot of the answers anyway. She knew about my magic." He sighed and shook his head. "There wasn't much point in saying nothing and getting myself hurt. Besides, they were pretty easy questions… If I had magic, where I'd learned – she didn't believe me when I said I was born using magic – and the like."

"Wait, you were born using magic? Seriously?"

Merlin looked at her with some surprise. "You knew that."

"No, I didn't."

For a moment they stared at each other. Merlin could've sworn she'd known that. She could've sworn she didn't. But then, they decided at last, it had been a year…

Merlin shook his head. "I'm worried about Arthur, though."

Xyla looked towards the door. Arthur's questions wouldn't be so easy to answer. "He's stubborn, isn't he?" she asked.

Merlin nodded. "We have to escape before Morgause or Morgana hurts him."

Xyla smiled. "Yeah, can't let them hurt him."

"Well, that's my destiny. Stupid prat shouldn't have come along anyway," Merlin muttered to himself unhappily, finally getting to his feet. "I think I know how to get to the room where they'll be taking him."

Xyla bit back some words about how annoying Merlin's loyalty could be. He was right; his friend was in danger. Deciding to be practical rather than sarcastic (and to stand up, because looking up at Merlin like this was pretty awkward), Xyla pointed out, "The problem with your plan, Merlin… Is that we're locked in a cell. Without the key. And Arthur is on the other side of the door. And neither of us can use magic."

Merlin looked at her, then to the door, and suddenly he grinned quite… evilly. Well, maybe mischievously. "Yeah," he said, lifting his fist. "That not-having-the-key thing is quite a problem, isn't it? Do you know, that guard wears his keys on his belt the exact same way that Arthur wears his in Camelot?" He opened his hand. On his palm sat a little black key.

A/N: By the way, peeps or preps or readers or Merlin fans or whatever-you-like, there is a poll on my profile :)