Things That Merlin Isn't Allowed To Do (According to Prince Arthur)
8: Run Into Unicorns When Out Hunting

"What is it with knights and their sadistic need to go hunting?"

"I'd hardly call it sadistic," Lancelot says from the back of the company, his honour and dignity slightly offended since he desires to be a good knight of every caliber and every duty, one of which includes following prince Arthur on long and royal hunts in forests that Camelot's knights have hunted in for generations, and probably hardly homes any wildlife anymore. "It's entertaining and good exercise."

"Yeah. It's good fun," Arthur agrees.

"Not exactly like a round at the tavern, but it's not bad," Gwaine says.

Percival doesn't say much.

Walking beside the tall man, Elyan nods and adds that while he has work to do back in the forge, it's a beautiful day which should be used to its fullest – so let's gather the knights and go hunting! Everyone's happy about that. Almost everyone, that is.

Merlin has a great liking and respect for these particular knights but at the same time, they can be as infuriating as Arthur sometimes; the prat probably influences them more than they know. They all know how much Merlin dislikes hunting so why couldn't they at least bring another servant with them, if they insisted at bringing a servant at all? No, Arthur won't have that. No, Arthur just says "Only girls dislike hunting, Merlin" – not that following on these boring, pointless hunts has ever stopped Arthur from calling Merlin a girl - and Merlin has no other choice but to follow.

"It's stupid," Merlin says displeasedly, wrinkling up his nose as he frowns. "You never catch anything anyway."

"I do!" Arthur protests loudly, feeling insulted. "What about the stag last week?"

"That was sir Bors who shot it, he and I were the ones who dragged the carcass back to Camelot, while you just sat atop of your horse looking prattish and important," Merlin retorts.

Arthur turns his head to look at him incredulously. "What? I did not look prattish!"

"Yes, you did. Like a cabbage-head!"

"There, there, children, calm down," Gwaine cuts across good-manneredly before they can begin a full-fledged argument. "Though, princess, Merlin's got a point. You didn't even hold a crossbow when sighting the stag, much less the crossbow whose bolt hit it. We helped to flush it out, not you. So you really aren't the one who caught the stag."

Arthur makes a spluttering noise. "Gwaine's right," Merlin says. "You didn't catch anything last week, or the week before. If anyone does it's Bors, Percival or Gareth 'cause they're actually good at what they do."

"And me?"

"Well, mostly you're a prat. Sire."

"Children-"

"That has nothing to do with hunting or anything! I am NOT a prat! And I'm good at what I do!"

Falling a bit behind the three Elyan leans closer to Percival, since the latter spends more time around the prince and his manservant, having no other occupation than being a knight. He's not often seen the odd pair interact other than briefly. "Are they often like this?"

Percival shrugs, yeah they are, he's seen them often enough. But he's not a man of many words.

Lancelot nods. "Always." They share a snicker.

Up ahead, the bickering pair and Gwaine are unsuccessfully trying to keep their voices down and spot prey, at the same time as keeping the argument going. Arthur still is adamant that he took down the stag last week; Gwaine says that Arthur's taking the credit for something he's not done just because he's trying to impress someone; Merlin thinks Arthur's a clotpole, period.

They search the woods for a few hours only managing to catch two rabbits (Percival and Elyan did that). Merlin thinks that, since it's been awhile, the sun is going down soon and they're not even having a trail to hunt anymore, surely they're heading back home now? His feet are aching and his legs feel sore. He should've insisted on horses. At least then they'd be sitting down.

"Arthur, c'mon," he says with a small whine. "Can't we go ba-"

"Shh!"

Everyone tense up at the sharp hushed command, eyes flickering, and they silently move their hands to their weapons as they see what Arthur's seeing. Up ahead, something moves, leaves rustling. The prince's hand tightens around the crossbow and Merlin leans over his shoulder, trying to see what it is. Slowly Arthur lifts the crossbow taking aim, as the bushes part with a rustle and fall of hooves...

"Oh!" Merlin breathes, and Arthur lets out a sigh, lowering the weapon.

He's not forgotten what happened last time he ran into one of these creatures, what pain and misery he brought onto Camelot, that he almost killed his people and Merlin. He can't let it happen again. The knights on the other hand haven't seen it before and they stare at it wide-eyed, but the prince hurriedly stops them before they can take aim and shoot.

"It's a unicorn!" Elyan exclaims.

"It's so beautiful," Merlin murmurs in his typical Merlinish way, stepping closer. The unicorn mimics the move and allows the warlock to gently stroke its white neck.

"Oh, so it's not an act then," Gwaine piques up and grins at Arthur. "You know, you're awfully slow, princess. You better get a move on before someone else does."

The prince gags, eyes widening, and then glares at the knight with a burning intensity that could make a normal man quake in his boots and turn a house on fire. "Not. Another. Word. Or I'll beat your black and blue!"

True to his trademark nature Gwaine just winks, unfazed. A bit in front of the two, Merlin is totally unaware. He's completely fascinated and his eyes shine with glee and he can't stop smiling like a fool, petting the unicorn's mane and glossy coat. It leans into the tender touch. "Ooh," the young warlock coos like a child who's just found a treasure in the backyard and Arthur crosses his arms over his chest - not sulking, just grimacing – turning away a few degrees, to ignore his manservant's and knights' behavior. He doesn't want to tear Merlin away from the creature just yet, because it'll upset the servant (too much), but doesn't say that because it'd be quite awkward.

"It is indeed an incredible creature," Lancelot agrees with Merlin, taking off one glove and trying to reach out but the unicorn snorts and steps away, avoiding the knight's hand. His brow knots in a frown. Seeing that his fellow knight isn't aware of why the creature behaves like this, when it should be common knowledge, Gwaine pats his back.

"I see you've gotten lucky. More than the princess, I mean."

"What do you mean, Gwaine?" the honourable knight asks, looking at him confused.

"Well, myth says that unicorns only lets themselves be touched by fair maidens."

Lancelot turns into an interesting shade of red.

Percival is always quiet but now he's unusually shady and flushes as he hears this, stepping away to ... do something else. The unicorn takes a step towards him and the large man squeaks indignantly as the unicorn's soft big nose puffs against his chest.

Gwaine laughs. "I never thought you'd still be like that, mate," the bearded man says and winks at the tall man. "Need a hand?"

The largest knight mutters something about marriage or waiting for love and gets patted on the arm by his friend, who leans in and proceeds to give him advice on how to do things proper and right and like a man. Percival backs away looking rather terrified and then croaks about "Having to go over here and do something else…important…"

Arthur thinks they're all just silly, stupid and distracting, and Merlin has to stop doing such stupid blatant things like petting unicorns with lecherous knights nearby – it only gives them unacceptable, horrible ideas. "That's enough. Let's head back to the city.

"But-" Merlin starts, a hand on the unicorn's side, giving the prince a big-eyed lost-sweet-puppy look. The prince nearly gives in, but with a wince remembers that the knights are still there.

"We're leaving, Merlin."

"But-"

"And no, we're not keeping it." Arthur wrinkles up his nose. He can just imagine the fit his father would have, and the stares - not everyone is as oblivious as Lancelot or stupid as Merlin - and talk will spread like wildfire if they enter the city like this, the knights blushing and bickering and Merlin practically riding on the unicorn through the gates like a sign and, by the gods, Arthur would never hear the end of it.

The servant pouts. "I didn't mean to keep him, Arthur...Can't we stay just a little longer?"

"Is the little princess scared of the big white monster?" Gwaine says mockingly and earns another glare and a sharp angry look from the unicorn; it looks suddenly rather ferocious. "Look, it's not scary, let me show you." The knight raises his hand toward the unicorn but it almost bites his hands off. "Oops, sorry there, mate."

"You've clearly spent too much time around the tavern, not just around the drink," Elyan states brilliantly.

But then the creature nudges Arthur's shoulder, so unexpectedly that he stumbles in the young warlock's direction.

"Oh, I didn't think you were like that, princess-"

"Shut. Up."

Arthur glares as the unicorn, which stares back without blinking. He's pretty sure that it's calling him names in its head.

Merlin looks just confused; when the unicorn obviously likes the prince, why's he blushing like in embarrassment? "Arthur, why are you so red?"

The conversation is too awkward and abnormal now and Arthur takes his weaponry, slings it his over his shoulder and begins to stalk away through the woods, effectively frightening away any wildlife. Merlin frowns as the prince grabs his arms and tugs, forcing him with him.

"Come on, knights! We're heading back to Camelot! Now!" Arthur shouts over his shoulder.

Gwaine smirks. "Tsk, tsk, princess. Watch out for the monsters!"

"When we get back I'm gonna turn you into meatpie!"

Elyan rolls his eyes. "You never learn, do you, Gwaine?"

With a sigh, Merlin lets himself be dragged away from the unicorn, giving it a last sad glance before it trots off through the woods. It's really pretty and it's not doing any harm, but the prince still wants them to get as far away as fast as possible, still holding onto his arm; it's really not fair and he thinks his arm might dislodge from its socket - yeah, Merlin thinks, Arthur is such a prat sometimes.