"Easy, Rae," Gwaine said, standing behind his sister and tugging on the kitestring, "you see those towers? Don't want it to get caught."

"I'll worry about the towers, Gwaine!" Gwarae insisted, jabbing her brother gently in the stomach and moving out of his reach.

"But doesn't the king dislike his knights courting serving girls?" Gareth asked. "Floree's wonderful, Gwaine, and I really like her, but, well, won't King Arthur get mad?"

Gwaine snorted: as if he ever cared if Arthur did get mad. But that needed more explanation, so, "You do know the queen herself was a serving girl."

Gareth's eyes bugged out appropriately.

"She was! Honest. Daughter of a blacksmith. You just ask her. You know, when I first saw her I tried to…" Gwaine began, laughing, but as Gareth was giving him a hard look and Gwarae had turned on him with a gossipy twinkle in her eye, he quickly amended his statement to, "tried to give her a flower. Didn't work, though."

"Good for her," Gareth laughed as Gwarae giggled: "Well, bugger that!"

"Gwarae!" Gareth and Gwaine said at the same time, and then glared at each other, but Gwaine was too busy laughing and Gareth continued, appalled: "Where on earth did you hear that?"

Gwarae shrugged. "The knights."

"Do you even know what that means?" Gwaine asked, folding his arms and raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Couldn't you try to play with other girls sometimes?" Gareth pleaded. "The practice field is no place for a lady."

Gwarae did not dignify either of her brothers' words with comment, but chose to roll her eyes dramatically instead. Then, with a gasp, she turned back to her ball of string, which was now void of string.

"Oh, no!" she cried.

"What, what's wrong?" Gareth asked, rushing forward, as Gwaine looked up.

"Damn," he said, looking up at the kite that had sailed free of its tether.

"Damn!" Gwarae said, stamping her foot.

Gareth looked up, too, and sighed resignedly: "Damn."

Then Gwaine laughed as he peered up at where exactly the kite was snagged, shielding his eyes from the sun that hung low on the horizon. "Oh no, wait! Wait, this isn't a problem at all. This will be good." He clapped each sibling on the shoulder and started walking. "Just come with me. You'll want to see this."

"Are you going to climb all the way up there, Gwaine?" Gwarae asked. "Percival said you did once! I'd like to see that!"

"Nope," Gwaine said. "Well, that is, yes. But you're coming with me."

"Coming where, Sir Gwaine?"

Gwaine stopped cold. He fixed an innocent grin on his face before turning around. "Coming up to the ramparts with me, George," he answered sweetly.

George, that irritating servant who knew too bloody much about everything and everyone (but damn could that man shine a boot), narrowed his eyes. "I believe the King has already reminded you several times of the danger in playing about on the causeways, Sir Gwaine."

"Playing?" Gwaine scoffed. "Who said anything about playing? We are all adults here, George. I was just going to take my dear long-lost siblings up to see the sunset and the beautiful view of the town. How could the King disapprove of that?"

But before George could really respond, Gwaine turned back around, ushering brother and sister ahead of him double-quick.

"Gwaine, that was rude, he was still talking," Gareth scolded.

"Just keep walking," Gwaine told him.

"Look. We're not going to do anything dangerous, are we? Or something that would displease the King?" the younger brother tried, but Gwaine squinted at him.

"My God, you're as bad as Sir Leon. Relax, would you? Here, up these stairs, quick," Gwaine said, shoving them in the correct direction. Gwarae was already scurrying up the stairs, skirts clutched in an unladylike fist, and Gwaine was close behind, so the middle sibling really had no choice but to go along. It was a long, spiral stair in a narrow tower. Gwaine nodded at the watchman posted in the tower as they passed. The guard snapped to slightly more attention at the sight of him, which seemed to impress Gareth somewhat, but Gwaine waved him off. "Just here to watch the sunset, Roland. Follow me," he added to his siblings, and proceeded to walk the rampart.

"Oh, this is lovely!" Gwarae squealed as they made it out to the middle of the long walk along the outer wall. They could see the mountains in the distance, and before them the town spread out, already beginning to twinkle as it was shrouded in darkness. The sun played orange on the clouds as it touched the peak of the mountains.

Even Gareth was impressed. "It's a shame that tower is in the way—oh! There's our kite!" he said, pointing at the adjacent tower not ten feet away. The kite was strung around the gargoyle on the top of the parapet, not too far, but for all intents and purposes, far enough. "Well, I guess it's stuck there," he lamented. Then, "What's that?" he asked Gwaine, somewhat alarmed.

"Gwaine!" Gwarae cried. "What's—you're not going to—" Gwarae, a permanent grin still fixed to her features, nevertheless looked somewhat concerned as her brother balanced a sturdy plank of wood from their causeway across to the parapet where their kite was snagged.

"I'm not," Gwaine said, with a wide grin at his sister. "Not by myself, anyway."

Gwarae jumped up and clapped her hands excitedly as Gwaine adjusted the board so that it rested solidly between the crenels along both walls, even as Gareth looked on, frowning. "You've got to be kidding. That's at least a—" Gareth looked down, but didn't bother calculating. "That could kill you. If you fell."

"No one better fall then, huh?" Gwaine teased.

"Isn't there a door there? Around the other side?" Gareth asked, pointing to the causeway leading to the adjacent tower.

Gwaine shook his head. "Sorry. Tried that already, believe me. The door's stuck fast. Probably all the pigeons that use it as their latrine. So. Who's first?"

"Oh, but Gwaine, it's scary!" Gwarae said, looking down with as much trepidation as determination.

"Hey, hey," Gwaine responded softly, turning her to look at him. "It's not scary. I won't let you fall, okay, half-pint? You don't even have to go if you don't want to. I'll go get the kite."

Before she could draw another breath and Gareth could utter a protest, Gwaine had leapt up and danced across the board. Seeing how easy (and fun!) he made it look, Gwarae's courage returned. "Wait! Wait, I'm coming."

Gwaine grinned and leaned heavily on the board on his end to keep it steady. "Okay, come on across. Hands and knees is best. May want to tug up your skirts."

Now Gareth found his voice. "Gwarae, no!" but the youngest Orkney had already got up on the board, and shouting any more or tugging her would only be a danger at this point. A few breathtaking seconds later, she was across, laughing giddily in Gwaine's arms.

"All right, Gary, your turn."

"Absolutely not! And don't call me Gary! I've not been called Gary since—"

"Since I've not been around to call you Gary, I know," Gwaine said, solemn. Gareth flinched, and there was a weighty silence between them, filled only by the wind whistling around the tower. "I won't let you fall," Gwaine insisted, his outstretched hand demanding.

Gareth pursed his lips. He didn't look down—the height was not what bothered him—but he stared hard at Gwaine, as if trying to read him, as if his face was an open book in a language he didn't understand. He glanced at Gwarae, who looked earnest and pleading, and then back at Gwaine. Then he gave a short nod and made his way across.

"And," Gwaine said, once he was safe across, "you'll see it's worth it."

The view really was. Before them was only sky, unmarred by tree or tower. The light became rich and orange and was pink on the clouds now. Flecks of clouds filtered the light, spreading golden streaks across the sky. The snow on the mountains sparkled and reflected the light even more, and more and more lights were coming on in the darkening town below them.

"It's beautiful!" Gwarae exclaimed, wrapping her tiny arms around both her brothers. "I'm so glad we're all here! Together again. It's perfect!" And then she burst into tears.

Gwaine laughed to keep from doing the same, pulling her tight with an arm around her shoulder. "Me too, Rae."

When Gareth beamed at him above Gwarae's head, Gwaine couldn't be sure whether his heart was breaking or growing twelve sizes.

Before the sun had set entirely, Gwaine let go of Gwarae and began sizing up where the kite had snagged on a gargoyle. He could probably get it if he jumped—and he tried, experimentally—but came up just a few inches short.

So he climbed.

"Oh, no, Gwaine!" Gareth said, catching sight of what he was doing. "Just leave it, you'll kill yourself. We can make a new kite."

Gwaine laughed as he shifted his weight to avoid a tiny brick that jutted out of the wall which felt a little precarious. "Got to get it while it's light. Don't worry about it, I'm almost—"

Then many things happened at once. Gwarae let out a blood-curdling shriek, like the bay of a banshee, and Gwaine almost lost his footing. He looked up at a disheartening rattle to find that the plank for going across the two causeways had been knocked loose and clattered to the ground far below them.

Also, there was a unicorn.

Presumably the beast had cleared the distance without the aid of the plank and had knocked it loose. It looked a little bigger than the last one. But Gwaine did not really take in much more before all he saw was red, because his siblings had been knocked over, Gareth falling protectively over Gwarae, and the unicorn reared up on its hind legs and was about to trample them. For a single terrifying moment, the kind that stole your breath and jolted your heart and clamped down on your chest all at once, Gwaine realized he was too far away to help them.

But he was already moving, his body responding instinctively to the danger before his mind could catch up, and gripping the lip of the ornamentation below the gargoyle, he swung round and, narrowly missing the business end of the horn, caught the unicorn full in the face.

Gwaine surprised himself with the force of his blow, especially as the unicorn, at the height of rearing up, was unbalanced and tumbled over the edge of the parapet, whinnying loudly in pain and rage. He might have followed it over, as his fingers lost their hold, but as it was he rather unheroically flopped on his back (an alternative he would take any day).

There was silence.

A too-long silence, really, that was suspicious more than comforting, before Gareth and Gwarae both leaped excitedly to their feet. "My gosh, Gwaine, are you all right?" "You saved us!" "Did you see him kill it?" they babbled, talking over each other.

"I'm fine," Gwaine groaned, trying to force his lungs to breathe properly after the evacuation of air. "Help me up."

"Was that a unicorn? I've never seen one before!" "It can't have been, they don't kill people!" "What was it doing up here?" "That was the coolest thing I've ever seen!" "The unicorn, or Gwaine kicking it in the face?"

As his brother and sister continued to talk excitedly, Gwaine cast a surreptitious glance over the edge of the wall to where the unicorn should have fallen.

He tried not to react physically when it wasn't dead on the ground where it was supposed to be.

"Um. Hey, are you both okay?" Gwaine asked, serious. "You're not hurt?"

"What? No. Gareth just fell on me!"

"We're fine, Gwaine. Why? What are you—what's going on?" Gareth said, sounding more than a little worried.

"Because, I—um—" Gwaine looked down nervously again, then up at the kite. With a bit of a running start and the flood of adrenaline that was still pumping through his limbs, he managed to jump high enough to snag the kite free of the gargoyle in a single bound. He handed it off to Gwarae and clapped Gareth on the shoulder: "Do you trust me?" he asked.

"Um. What—"

"Do you trust me?"

"Gwaine—" Gareth said, his voice going a bit shrill as he guessed at what Gwaine was about to do.

"I will be back for you as soon as I can," Gwaine said, and held his brother's gaze for half a second longer before going to the wall and jumping over the side.

"No!" Gareth shouted as Gwarae shrieked again, but there was a whoosh and something flew past the tower so fast it disturbed a few stones.

Now Gareth and Gwarae caught sight of the unicorn again: it was not dead, but it was in fact, still alive and raging.

And it was also flying, wingless, off towards the courtyard.

And also their idiot brother was perched atop its back.

Open-mouthed silence reigned. The sun dipped below the horizon.

"Well now how are we going to get down?"

...

Once he got off-duty Leon stopped off at Elaine's quarters again, hoping that his gift of flowers would allow him entrance, but apparently she was busy working and asked not to be disturbed. He left the flowers with Floree, anyway, and went off to look for Gwaine. It was probably a little too early for Gwaine to be at the Rising Sun, and he hoped to catch the man when he was alone. He wasn't really sure what he was going to say—probably some sort of apology with an implicit question to figure out exactly what he did wrong—but he hoped that Gwaine would at least appreciate the gesture.

His thoughts were so engrossed that he was almost bowled over by Gwaine himself barreling around a corner.

"Gwaine! I've been meaning to talk to you," Leon said, until Gwaine shushed him.

"No time!" he had a manic look in his eyes, and his hair looked a little more wind-swept than usual.

"What's happened?"

"Unicorn!" Gwaine said, dragging Leon down another hallway.

"Another one?" Leon hurriedly looked ahead. "Which way did it go?"

A deafening crash of breaking glass made Leon and Gwaine wheel around.

The unicorn now stepping slowly towards them over shards of stained glass was definitely not the same unicorn as the one before. The previous unicorn, for instance, was smallish, almost deer-like in appearance. It was lithe more than muscular. It wasn't sweating like a horse, towering over them, with smoke pouring out of its nostrils and fire alight in the back of its throat. It didn't have eyes like a lion and it certainly didn't have a horn that resembled a giant barbed pike.

This one did.

"Well, I wasn't exactly following it," Gwaine explained sheepishly, and the beast charged.

Leon and Gwaine both pushed each other out of the way at the same time, meaning the unicorn charged between them and narrowly missed them both. With shoes full of glass shards they ran back the opposite way, the unicorn gathering speed behind them.

"So, Leon!" Gwaine shouted over the sound of the unicorn's closing pursuit. "What did you want to talk about?"

Leon, figuring Gwaine's chattiness was due to the fact that they might die at any moment, replied, "Oh, you know—I just wanted to apologize for making you—" he paused as they both tried to turn a corner at breakneck speeds, ran into each other, and sprinted down a new hallway, "making you angry."

"Is this about that 'less fortunate' crack you made earlier?" Gwaine panted.

"I didn't mean to upset you." They tore around another corner, to the screams and shouts of servants and guards that they were rapidly leaving behind—at least the unicorn didn't seem intent on chasing them…

"What about that business with the non-nobles not being your peers?"

"Our peers," Leon corrected. They ran through the armory, and armed themselves as they were running—Gwaine with two swords and Leon with his beloved crossbow. "What about it?"

"Aren't you going to apologize for that?"

They burst through the far doors, giving Leon a long enough shot to stop and load his crossbow. "Well, yeah—I'm sorry that upset you," Leon reiterated, sliding the crossbow bolts deftly into place.

"Wait. You mean to tell me you're apologizing just because I got mad?" Gwaine was practically whining—a sure sign that he was livid. The unicorn appeared, black hooves pawing at the ground.

Leon shrugged and hefted the crossbow onto his shoulder as the unicorn started charging. "Honestly, Gwaine, I'm not really sure what else I should be apologizing for."

Gwaine facepalmed. Leon didn't blink as he emptied four bolts into the unicorn's massive chest.

The unicorn kept on charging.

At the last second Leon used the crossbow to block the unicorn's horn, but the force behind the creature's charge shoved him back on his heels against the stone wall behind them. The unicorn snorted and pawed at the ground, its horn mere inches away from Leon's throat.

"Just because I'm a nobleman, it doesn't make me any different from Percival or anyone!" Gwaine shouted, not really paying attention to the unicorn as he swatted at it a few times with his swords.

Leon's arms started to shake as the unicorn pressed closer. "Whatever you say."

"Ugh, you're hopeless!" Gwaine snarled, taking out some of his anger on the unicorn in front of him. But the blows just seemed to bounce off.

With a roar Leon gave his crossbow a sharp twist. The unicorn's head snapped sideways, the horn clipping the side of a wall-mounted brazier. With a flash of light the horn broke—crystal shards scattering across the floor, the jagged horn root oozing glittery blood as the creature recovered.

"I suppose the bolts didn't take, either," Gwaine said.

"Oh, really, I hadn't noticed." He whipped off his cloak and used it to distract the unicorn as it charged again. It got caught on the unicorn's horn, and Leon held on tight to the other end, trying to figure out what to do next.

"No need to get aeriated," Gwaine said, rolling up his sleeves.

"What does that even mean?!"

Gwaine just shrugged and jumped on the unicorn's back. "Come on, unicorn, let's go," he said, kicking at the unicorn's sides. It reared up with a scream, hooves tearing through the air. Leon was nearly jerked off his feet.

"Stop helping!" Leon yelped, barely avoiding an obsidian hoof.

"Sorry!" Gwaine said, but he wasn't sure how to get down, and clutched to the unicorn's back as it bucked and brayed.

Thus, Leon was far too distracted to notice as the shards of horn unraveled into silver luminescent thread.

...

After dealing with the laundry, Merlin sat back down at the table and made a half-hearted attempt at looking through the books again. But he kept drifting off, and finally gave up, standing and stretching lazily.

"Gaius, I'm going to go muck and feed the horses," he said, and Gaius grumbled something at him from where he was deep in thought with one of the books. Taking this to mean he didn't need him around for any reason, Merlin grabbed his jacket and trekked over to the stables. He cleaned them and threw fresh hay in the horses' feed buckets, and snuck Diablo an apple before going upstairs to polish the armor he knew Arthur had undoubtedly left out for him.

The king was sitting and glaring at a pile of papers on his desk when Merlin shouldered open the door. He didn't even look up, apparently deep in thought.

"If you're trying to light them on fire, you might try using a match…" Merlin commented finally, and Arthur jumped and looked at him.

"Haven't we talked about knocking?" he asked, pushing the papers away and dropping his quill on top of them.

"Maybe I didknock and you didn't hear me."

"You did notknock."

"I could have," Merlin answered, and Arthur arched both eyebrows at him. "So were you trying to light them on fire just by glaring at them?"

"Merlin- "

"Because I don't think you can do that without magic-"

"Merlin- "

"And if you had magic- " Merlin was still talking, but that actually made him laugh. Before he could finish what he was saying, he had to dodge a glove that was flying for his head. The idea of Arthur having magic was so preposterous that Merlin laughed again, and this time failed to duck the partner to the previous glove as it bounced off his face.

"What was that for?" he asked indignantly.

"You were chattering," the king answered, but now he was laughing. Merlin bent to retrieve the gloves and tossed them back to Arthur. "Were you here for some reason other than driving me mad?" he asked, and Merlin nodded to the armor that Arthur had left strewn over two chairs and several feet of floor near his table.

"You were going to polish armor? Before I told you to do it?" Arthur asked.

"I- " Merlin started, and then frowned. He really had no answer to that.

"I take it there was nothing in Gaius' books about the unicorn, then," he said, and Merlin grinned.

"No. Nothing at all." Arthur went back to the table and dropped into his chair with a heavy sigh.

"The one Leon shot looked exactly like the ones in the tapestry. They mustbe related," Arthur mused.

"But- " Merlin started, about to defend Elaine since Leon wasn't there to defend her himself, and Arthur waved him silent.

"I'm not blaming Elaine. Leon would not be anywhere near her if she was a witch," Arthur said. "But perhaps it was only the one unicorn, and I'm worrying unnecessarily." He glanced up again from the papers to find Merlin looking at him skeptically, though he said nothing.

They both looked up as they heard a clatter, followed by the sound of glass breaking and, shortly thereafter, screaming. Merlin and Arthur both jumped to the door and bolted into the hall.

"You were saying?" Merlin asked as they ran toward the shouts.

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur responded.

They reached the unicorn just in time to see Gwaine get thrown off the beast. While Arthur ran forward with his sword drawn to aid Leon in the attack, Merlin skidded to a halt next to Gwaine, who was already standing back up.

"Are you alright?" Merlin asked his friend.

"Am I alright?! I just rode a unicorn!" Gwaine responded, and Merlin gaped at him in disbelief.

"You have no sense of self-preservation, you know that?" Merlin asked, sounding harried, and then yelped in surprise as Gwaine pushed him toward the wall and the unicorn charged past them, Leon and Arthur hot on its heels. It reached the end of the hall and wheeled around, head down, to charge the pair of them. Merlin watched as Leon fired a shot that appeared to do absolutely not harm to the beast at all.

"I should mention our weapons haven't been able to touch it," Gwaine remarked, before charging forward to join the other two. The unicorn didn't even slow down, swinging its head as it charged right through Arthur, Leon, and Gwaine, throwing all three of them out of the way. Merlin realized, somewhat belatedly, that he was now directly in its path and stepped back without looking. His heel caught on a corner of one of the stones in the floor and he toppled over backwards.

Before he could shout a spell to stop the unicorn trampling him (and worry about the consequences later) Arthur had jumped in front of the thing, putting himself in the way, and Merlin hurriedly changed his mind from a spell to slow the unicorn down- no time to think of one- to a hurriedly-muttered version of the same spell he'd once used when Lancelot had been jousting with a very angry gryphon.

"Bregdan anweald gafeluc," he said, a split second before the unicorn reached Arthur. The king struck forward with his sword at the same time as he stepped sideways, and the sword buried itself in the unicorn's chest, any tell-tale blue glow quickly extinguished. Arthur let go of the hilt as the unicorn crashed past him and buckled to the floor, coming to rest mere feet from Merlin, who looked, wide-eyed, from the dead unicorn to the king and his knights.

"What were you thinking?" Arthur asked him furiously, stomping over and yanking him to his feet by his jacket collar.

"Er," he said, still looking a little startled.

"Next time something is trying to kill you, get out of the way!" Arthur snapped, and then wheeled around as Leon tapped his shoulder and pointed at the unicorn, which was vanishing again. Merlin brushed off his jacket and watched the unicorn fade to nothing. Gwaine stepped over next to him and nudged his shoulder.

"That was impressive," he muttered softly, and Merlin grinned. That hadbeen kind of impressive. He looked at Leon and Arthur, who were talking in loud, excited voices about that attack Arthur had just pulled off. Merlin wondered if they would be nearly as impressed if they'd known about him enchanting Arthur's blade at the last minute. It had certainly ended well, and of course, the enchantment hadn't done anything except make the blade able to pierce the unicorn's hide, but… Merlin sighed softly. They'd made a good team, and no one even knew. Except Gwaine, who patted Merlin's shoulder sympathetically as Leon and Arthur joined them, their boots scuffing through the leftover shining dust left by the unicorn. Merlin tipped his head to the side as something caught his eye, and he reached down to pick up a piece of something that had been dislodged by Arthur's boot.

"What is that?" Arthur asked, reaching over and snatching it without asking. Merlin frowned at him and snatched it back.

"That's a tapestry thread," Gwaine said, and then glanced almost apologetically at Leon.

"A magic tapestry thread?" Arthur asked, and looked like he was about to saw something else, before he was interrupted.

Gwaine twitched, as if remembering something, and cursed under his breath.

"I, uh, have to go!" he said, grinned, and bolted down the hall, saying something about having to go get Gareth and Gwarae from a roof. Leon, Merlin, and Arthur all looked at each other for a moment, and then Arthur looked down at the floor again, scuffing the dust with his boot.

"It seems as if magic has determined to ruin even the purest of things," he said morosely. Merlin very carefully avoided looking at Arthur or Leon, pretending he was looking very hard at the thread still held in his hand. He glanced up when he heard Arthur walk away, and then looked at Leon.

"I'll just go get a broom. This dust is already getting everywhere!" he said, smiling ruefully as he looked down the hall at the dust Arthur and Gwaine had both tracked with them.