A/N: So, if I'm right, I'll probably pass 100 reviews this chapter. That's awesome, and I thank everyone who reads my story a million times. That is, I thank them a million times. They don't read a million times. Whatever, you know what I mean xD I've got a feeling next chapter will be the end of the story.

Chapter Nineteen

They'd gone a little into the woods, tethered and taken care of their horses, and spread out their blankets. Then Arthur ordered Merlin to stay there while he went to find Xyla.

"Why can't I come help find her?" Merlin had asked.

Arthur just raised an eyebrow as though to say, "What a stupid question." Merlin had needed help just walking this far. He needed a bit more rest before he went looking for errant sorceresses.

Merlin sighed, not able to argue with the silent logic. "Don't kill each other," he almost pleaded.

Arthur smirked a bit, but Merlin shook his head.

"No, really."

As a thought struck him, Arthur replied, "We'll see. And don't think you're off the hook for dragging me along on a recue mission for a sorceress, either. We're going to talk about that."

Merlin had grimaced. It would probably be more of a yell-fest than a "talk," but he had supposed he should be glad Arthur didn't seem to be planning on chopping his head off. As far as Merlin could tell, that is, he wasn't planning on it.

Arthur left Merlin with the camp.

It took only a few minutes to spot Xyla. She was where he had told her the water was, sitting on the edge of a pathetic little creek that was only kept alive by a recent rain. Her hair had been taken down and re-put up, and was wet. Small beads of water were dribbling down her forehead and neck, but somehow she looked dirtier than ever. Arthur found himself wondering what exactly Merlin found irresistible.

She was staring at a tree top, her mouth turned up in a way that could have been a smile or could have just been natural. She turned to look at Arthur when he approached.

"We set up a camp," he told her.

"Is Merlin feeling alright?"

"A bit weak."

"To be expected after a healing."

"You know a lot about that, I guess."

She grinned at him in a slightly condescending way that irritated him every time. Merlin didn't seem to have a problem with it. (And the voice in Arthur's head that always sounded a bit like the Idiot himself pointed out that Merlin was used to dealing with Arthur; of course the mocking tone didn't bother him.)

"Haven't you been listening?" she asked. "That's what I do."

Arthur came up right beside her, and she looked up at him. He thought about sitting beside her, but decided that was too friendly. Instead he stayed awkwardly on his feet. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he started in bravely.

"About Merlin and the healing. I thought I should…"

"If you are about to thank me for saving him, please don't," Xyla said. The smile was still on her face, but it was colder, a warning. "And if you're going to accuse me, don't do that either. I'll only think you're more of a hypocrite."

The words died in Arthur's throat. He felt the urge to deny what she'd said, but he couldn't think of the right words. He wasn't a hypocrite. He'd just wanted to protect Merlin… protect the man with the arrow in him from a healer? Okay, so he hadn't been thinking so straight. That wasn't hypocritical.

"Can I say that it's a good thing that you were thinking a bit more reasonably than I was at that point?" he asked with a sarcastic tinge to his voice. "Or will that convince you that I'm a hypocrite too?"

She shrugged. "Was that an apology, or were you trying to start an argument?" she wondered out loud. "I can't really tell."

He didn't answer and she turned to stare at the tree top again. There was a little bird that hadn't been scared off by her and the prince talking. It was brown and happily flitting about on a branch. Suddenly she laughed cheerfully. "You know, Sire," she said, "you remind me of your father in some ways, and his complete opposite in other ways. It just kind of makes me wonder what your mother was like."

While he tried to decipher the meaning behind that, and whether or not he or his father had just been insulted (or both?), she sat there and thought out her next words. She knew what she wanted to say. How to say it?

Arthur leaned over to idly run his finger through the water. It was chilly, as he expected, but thick with dirt and debris.

"I just came to get you," he told her at last. "Merlin asked that we not kill each other right now. Though I doubt there's much you could do to me."

She chuckled.

There was silence again. Arthur shifted (but not nervously, since he didn't get nervous), and she thought some more. At last she decided how she wanted to say it.

"I don't think love makes any sense, really."

"What?"

"Just… the way it works. Or how love makes think or… act… I don't know. It's just…" Okay, this was coming out worse than she'd wanted. "Do you remember Kushi, the other girl who was with me… last time, in Camelot…?"

He remembered.

"I loved her as a sister. Well, a sister that one actually can put up with, sorry." Thinking of Morgana, she blushed a bit. "When she got killed, I really wanted to kill those archers. I would have, probably, except that arrow in my shoulder…" And Merlin. "It wasn't like her death physically hurt me, and it wasn't like she ever really didn't anything huge for me… saved my life or something. But I felt like the world was crashing down anyway." The smile had left her face. "Because that's how it is when you love someone, right? And it's a funny thing; when you love someone, you want them to be happy, right? Even if you pick on them like I did on Kushi. You want them to be happy and loved even more than just you can love them… You like people who like them, sometimes, just because they make them happy. Does that make sense?"

It didn't, but Arthur felt that he was getting the basic idea.

"I remember that shortly before my mother died, she told me how when she got married, her brother hated my father. They never got along, and my uncle just… hated him. Until he realized how much my father loved Mother. Then he started being nicer to him, tolerated him, and eventually liked him, even. I just think it's odd how that works. You put up with people who love those you love."

She was quiet so long that Arthur wondered if that was it.

But then she smiled brightly. "Prince Arthur, when you dreamed about Merlin being in trouble, why'd you jump to his aid so fast?"

Arthur's thoughts ground to a stop, and no matter how he tried to think of an excuse, his brain didn't seem to want to churn one out. "Well," he said at last. "What else was I going to do?"

She stood up. "That's what I figured… How much longer until we reach Camelot?"

The change of topic didn't throw him this time. He was catching on to how she drove conversations, he thought. He could work with it. "About a day, if Merlin regains his ability to move soon."

"I guess I'll have to head off around then," she mused. "Don't want to get arrested or anything." She looked like she was going to pout. "I hate to leave Merlin."

Arthur had a feeling Merlin would hate it too.

"Where's the camp?" she asked.

He started that way, brushing his blonde hair out of his face as he went. He kept his eyes ahead, but he could hear Xyla walking behind him, her wet hair still dripping behind her.