Unicorn's Traditional Virgin by GJ Woodrum

Book Four in the Traditional Stories series

Heat Rating: Zero Fire

Content Warning: Twisted fairy tale

The Unicorn discovers something very amiss with the Virgin.

The Forest was quiet. Too quiet.

Sighing, I arose from my bed of wild flowers and scanned the edges of the clearing, looking for the cause of too much Golden Silence, my head lifting to the wind, checking the scents on the breeze.

Nothing. Just the smell of honeysuckle and jasmine.

A sneeze sent motes of light drifting from my nostrils.

I can't abide jasmine. Nasty stuff.

And naturally all the best Princesses were wearing it these days.

Shaking myself to rid my hide of stray flower petals I took a cautious step forward.

Something was definitely amiss, but I couldn't put my hoof on it.

Oh, in case forgot to mention this, I'm a Unicorn, and I'm proud of it too. I've even got a membership to the Unicorn Guildónot to be confused with geld, which I am most certainly notóthough my dues were lapsed. Just another dreary little detail I'd forgotten at the idyllic onset of Spring. Then again, Summer tended to do the same thing to me, what with the Spring Courting Time and then the bright emotions of Summer Mating.

I couldn't keep from sighing again, standing there in the middle of the clearing, Daydreaming. I lost more time that way, just standing there, thinking about delicate faces and long flowing tresses...

The breeze shifted.

My head snapped up.

That scent.

Oh my!

Oh YES!

Led by my noseóand other parts farther away from my nose, I must admitóI trotted out of the clearing following the lovely, wonderful, beautiful odor.

She was in the glade by the spring, sitting in pale blue meadow flowers.

Breathtaking. Beautiful with a long fall of luscious dark maneóeróhair.

Her eyes were a spectacular shade of green, like sunlight through a canopy of summer leaves, the cloth wrapping around her the same color. She sat there so demurely with her long rear limbs tucked beneath her under the folds of the fabric covering her.

Still in the verge of the forest as I was, she was totally unaware of my presence, her little nimble forehooves braiding flower stems together with mesmerizing skill.

But I could both see and scent her.

I drew in a deep breath and had to fight a sneeze.

Wretched jasmine, spoiling the purity of her scent.

It was strong too, overwhelming the most subtle undertones of her glorious scent. She must have rolled in the stuff. A pity that. I'm sure her natural scent was marvelous.

I made a solemn vow to uproot every jasmine in the entire Realm.

Later. Much later.

She was in the Traditional place. This was the Traditional Time. And she had all the markings of a very well born Princess. Flawless hideóeróskin as pure as my own gleaming white skinóeróhide.

I couldn't even hold a coherent thought anymore. Sadly it's the bane of us Unicorns. Once we get the scent of such purity our brains go to mush. Can't hold a thought in our heads beyond the one thing we desire most.

Perfection. Pure. Innocent perfection.

And this was the one I'd been seeking. That dark mane and creamy hideóerówell you know what I mean.

Trembling with the Traditional need to go to her, still I hesitated. A Unicorn didn't survive colthood by being incautious. I mean, there are Traditional Stories about what might happen to Unicorns foolhardy enough to lay their heads in the lap of a Virgin. Horrible, gruesome stories.