A/N: IMPORTANT! VITAL TO STORY CONTENT! A lot of people don't know this, so... The Scottish coat of arms contains a chained unicorn. A friend of mine, who just happens to be a Scot, informed me that apparently on the day they finally get their independence, the unicorn will be unchained. Keep that in mind. Also, Scotland wears an iron earring to ward away fairies. Ta-Da. Carry on reading.
Scotland picked his way slowly over the forest floor, his boots crunching on the uneven ground. Out of habit, he avoided the wildflowers, unwilling to crush their fragile beauty. He was a man of many fragile beauties, with a love for innocence, but a lust for more than just life's small wonders. Above everything else, he was the embodiment of bridled freedom. Like wind in a jar, he had no place to be but where he was told to stand. Reaching up, he gently unclipped the iron piercing from his ear, dropping it into his pocket. After a short while, the air began to glitter. Then the fairies came, sometimes as short as his thumb, otherwise larger creatures of magic, like the knee high brownies that scuttled back and forth from their burrows to the berry bushes.
The tall red headed man kneeled by the burrow, sighing sadly. He remembered a time when the Scottish brownies would tip toe across kitchen floors and sweep the ash from the wood back into the fireplace. Since then, they had been banished to the forests.
Scotland harboured little hatred for fey-Only for the English ones, who pulled at his hair and tried to trip him up, who taunted him from just too high to reach. Scotland's own fairies, the Unseelie folk who used to run freely from one end of their island to next, were not unkind, but they were of nature now. The cities and towns offered only fluttering pests.
He stood only after clearing fallen branches from around their home, smiling briefly at their squeaked gratitude. Turning, he headed deeper into the forest, knowing he was close now.
Soon, the trees broke, into a large meadow. The wildflowers grew more abundantly here, in all shades of violet, yellow and pink. Across from him, at the far end of the clearing, was a beautiful snow white horse. It's mane flowed from the crest of it's head to it's knees, unknotted and clean. It whinnied when it's deep brown eyes landed on him, rearing up on it's back hooves and coming back down heavily with excitement. A long white horn, with it's pearly sheen, glimmered as it landed.
Scotland's broad white grin stretched across his face and he strode quickly forward. The unicorn, with all her pride, bowed to him. Her head lowered, past her knees, her mane piling and brushing over the long grass and flowers.
"Ye know ye don't have ti do tha', ol' friend," he chuckled, his thick accent coming out in waves, distorting the language.
The unicorn snorted in derision, as though disagreeing, and straightened herself. She went to nuzzle the man and Scotland ducked a little, reaching up a hand to stroke her nose. "Oi, watch tha horn!" He said good naturedly, gently pushing on the side of her head so that he could hug around her neck. He stroked her side with the flat of his hand, warmed fur catching on the hem of his blue sleeve. His hand was stopped, though, by thick metal, and he sighed. His hand stilled and he remained there for a while, loathing the iron collar she had been shackled with.
As Scotland pulled away, the now solemn beast turned it's head, gesturing to the collar, and looked back at him. Long, thick iron chains were bound to a nearby tree with a broad trunk. Her mournful eyes stared into him and she whinnied again, wistfully.
"'M sorry, lass... Not t'day."
The unicorn stomped her hoof, tossing her head again, and neighed, louder now, to the sky. Her eyes went to the mountains in the distance and she neighed again, storming forward, past him, to the edge of the meadow.
"Sto-"
The chain rattled like a snake, hitting him in the leg and he landed in the grass, watching her with forlorn eyes.
The unicorn got all the way to the end before the chain ran out, yanking her back, and she fought it, crying out and stomping her hooves into the flowers. She reared, higher this time, neighing loud and clear once again. Her hooves battled the air, clawing at the image of her mountain range, so close, yet so far away, and Scotland hung his head.
Eventually she tired, collapsing on her side. Her stomach heaved. She gave one last cry before giving up, resting her head on the green earth.
Scotland stood and went over to her, dropping down again, now beside her. He gently rubbed down her neck, alone her back and over her flank. He closed his eyes and a single tear broke the line, skittering down his cheek. "One day, lassie, one day..."
A/N: Hope you enjoyed it :) Please review, and if you're interested, check out my Fictionpress account, same name. Byebye!