There Was A Reason

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There was a reason why Merlin hated hunting, and it wasn't because of the unicorn incident, or because he ended up having to carry all the game.
Or at least, those weren't the main reasons.
The main reason had to do with the times they'd been ordered to bring out the hunting dogs. The times when the Knights were grim instead of joking, and there was no stag at the end of the hunt.
Sometimes they got away.
Sometimes Merlin helped them.
And sometimes there was a body that they burned and left and nightmares of himself running desperately through the trees while the dogs bayed.
There was a reason he never liked those dogs.
And every time he went hunting with Arthur, he couldn't help but wonder if someday he would be hunted by Arthur.
There was a reason he hated to hunt.

There was a reason Arthur never made Merlin look after his dogs.
There was a reason he made up an excuse to leave Merlin at the camp the last day of the hunt.
There was a reason he never teased him on those hunts.
He assumed Merlin was seeing Will.
He never talked about the boy, of course. How could he? How could the crown prince of Camelot talk about a sorcerer that had died saving his life? But he hadn't forgotten. He would never forget.
Arthur wondered if he ever saw himself.
Not that Merlin was a sorcerer, naturally, but he had been accused before. It was only luck that it had never come to this.

They had their reasons.

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