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"Oh God, oh God, oh God," Harry mutters. "Oh God!" then yells.

"Don't panic, my little princey," Louis says, standing up. He groans, bending a bit and putting a hand over the wound. "We have to find healing plants and tie something around my torso to stop the bleeding."

"W—what about the — the arrow that is inside?"

"We leave it there. The broadhead itself might provide the pressure needed to stop the bleeding and allow clotting to occur around it," Louis shakily says.

"Okay… Okay. And plants?"

"It's autumn, I'm not sure if we could find them. Can you help me take off my jacket?"

"Yes," Harry says and helps Louis stand straighter so he can easier strip the jacket. Louis takes the flask with water after the jacket is off, pushing the shirt up so the wound is again visible. He pours a bit of water around the wound to clean it, managing not to yell and then lets the shirt fall. He takes the jacket Harry gives him, ties it around his torso so that the sleeve knot is pressing on the wound.

Harry is watching him with concerned eyes. It is his fault he is hurt. They will not come near any people who can help him, who have medical supplies, in days. Harry hopes Louis will survive that long, that he will not bleed to death.

"Let's go. I hope, even though we're officially still enemies, you'll hurry your ass so I don't die," Louis grunts as struggles to go uphill.

"Who says we are still enemies? I think we are past that. I mean, you did have your hand in my pants. And you have saved my life. I do not think enemies do that."

"Maybe I'm trying to stay on your good side to kidnap you without struggle," Louis is lying and it is pretty obvious.

"Doubt it. Let me help," Harry offers, not waiting for Louis to deny or accept. He picks him up, carrying him bridal style. Louis squeals, not expecting that from Harry.

"Don't your feet hurt?" Louis teases through the pain.

"Do not remind me or I might let you fall."

"You wouldn't. You need me."

"You have taught me how to find the south so…"

"But you don't know how to hunt."

"Like hell you are hunting in this shape!" Harry stops, looking at Louis angrily.

"You're cute when you're mad," Louis says, putting one hand on Harry's cheek and leaning in. His lips touch Harry's, they are so soft, like the finest material. Harry and Louis do not move their lips or use tongues, they are just pressing them together. They have their eyes closed, the wind is lightly blowing as the sun shines on them. They pull apart from the kiss.

"You are saying I am not cute when I am not mad?"

"No, you're not. You're beautiful then."

"No. You are beautiful, I am handsome."

"Harry… it doesn't matter," Louis says and goes for another kiss that Harry welcomes.

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It has been a couple of days of travelling. Luckily, there has not been another attack on them and the duo was happy. Harry carried the sword around his belt and Louis in his arms. They found a small waterfall and made a camp there in the evening the day before.

It is not much, just like it was not the last time. Louis is sitting in the tree's shadow, cleaning the wound as Harry is looking at Louis' sword. He likes it, it is simple and balanced. He lost his sword somewhere around the carriage, Zayn has probably taken it.

Harry makes a mistake by looking at Louis. He, of course, has his shirt off to easily clean the wound. Harry gulps, Louis is hurt, he should not be thinking about his body and sexual activities. He tries to look away but then Louis stands and starts to remove his pants.

"W—what are you doing?" Harry stutters.

"I need to wash my pants and shirt, they're all bloody," he says, secretly enjoying stripping in front of Harry. It gives him a rush of adrenaline and arousal. He ignores his growing member and pain, pushing the pants all the way down.

"I will go wash them, you rest," Harry offers, already standing up.

"Why, thank you, princey," Louis smiles. Harry almost blushes, he takes the clothes and goes to rinse them. He remembers his mother doing that when he was little. He would help her carry the clothes to the washing room or will, depending on the weather. She liked doing things herself, that's why everyone loved her. Still do. "You good, curly?"

"Yes. Just thinking about my mom," he says even though he does not know why. He never talks about her. Louis' breath hitches and he clears his throat. "Do you know who killed her?" Harry blurts out.

"Um… no."

"You are lying," Harry removes clothes from the water and puts them in a rock to dry. "Why are you lying?" he does not know if he is lying or not, but he thinks he might get the truth if he accuses him.

"I'm not!"

"What are you hiding?" Harry probes more.

"Nothing!"

"I do not trust you!"

"Oh gosh, Harold. What do you wanna hear, that your father killed her?" Louis blurts out, covering his mouth with his hand when he processes what he had said.

"What?" Harry sways a bit, pressing one hand against his head.

"No. Forget what I said —"

"Tell me!" Harry yells, interrupting Louis. "Tell me what you know!"

"You can't trust me! I'm the kingdom's enemy!"

"Well, I don't see 'kingdom' searching for me! Tell me!"

"I… No. I'm not ruining the image you have of your fabulous father."

"He is not fabulous. He is an abuser and a monster. Oh gosh, how did I not figure it out?" Harry feels like he is going to get sick.

"What do you mean?" Louis frowns. "You're his son."

"Well, that didn't matter when he beat me," Harry snorts, lifting his shirt to reveal a stomach full of scars. He turns around and there are more scars on the back. "They are also on my legs. He did not go for the head so no one saw it."

"Fuck…" Louis tugs at his hair.

"Fuck indeed. He had used pretty much anything that was there. Glass, belt, rope, his body. I am lucky he did not… he did not rape me like he does to the servants."

"I know he is a bastard, a rapist and a bad ruler. I assumed he is strong with education, you're an heir after all, but… that he beat you? I didn't think he'd go there."

"Well, he did. Now, talk," Harry says, lowering his shirt and not letting his tears fall.

"Only those involved should know but I accidentally heard him arranging the deal in the forest when I was… When I planned to sneak into the castle. You know, who would suspect a child? He paid the assassins to kill her so he could be seen as a king who mourns his wife's death. According to him, he would get more allies and people wouldn't want to kill him. You weren't to be harmed, just your mother. So when you were going to the festival they struck and killed half of the guards that were with you and then the queen. When people heard about Dead Crows a bit less than two years later and the name got to Desmond, he put the blame on us," Louis shrugs." Wonderful father and king he is," he says sarcastically.

"It is him the whole time?"

"You don't have to believe me. As I said, I'm still the enemy," Louis assures.

"No. It makes sense. How could I not see it before?" Harry snorts. "I want to kill him."

"If you do that, there will be consequences."

"I would be the king!"

"With subjects that will fear you. Let me do it. Let me kill Desmond."

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