Merlin surveyed the vast expanse of field that would be used to fight the battle with Morgana. How had she gathered so many people?
"There are so many," Merlin said.
"Yes, well done Merlin. That's generally what people want to win a war – plenty to fight," Arthur muttered irritably.
"Not my fault the Pendragons aren't universally loved by the magical community," he muttered.
Arthur gave him a long look, then nodded curtly. "I know."
Merlin remembered the events of the past three days that had inevitably led to this moment. He hadn't been able to shake the feeling that something was wrong over the months following Morgana's latest downfall and Arthur and Gwen's marriage. Camelot had been peaceful. No sorcerers or strange creatures or armies from distant kingdoms coming to tear it down or blow it up or declare war or challenge Arthur to fight. It was too peaceful. And on top of that, Merlin had told Aithusa to save Morgana – despite what he was sure was his better judgement – because the feeling that his friend, the frightened girl he'd poisoned and felt so guilty for, was still there. So there definitely was a threat.
He sighed. Arthur and Gwen were happy. They wanted children. Arthur typically wanted strong boys to fight, but Gwen didn't mind – so long as the children were kind and fair and knew the value of friendship and work. Merlin had nearly laughed when he'd overheard Gwen telling Arthur that in their chambers.
Arthur knows the value of hard work? Please.
But Merlin was sure they'd be wonderful parents, so long as the children got the best attributes from both of them – not that it was possible for Gwen to be anything short of amazing, Merlin thought.
He was mid-way filling Arthur's cup with wine at the feast held for Gwen's birthday (not given without some protest from the modest and still down-to-earth Queen, who had insisted that poorer families in the city were all given hampers of food because they couldn't all attend) when a loud crash interrupted Merlin's thoughts and pouring.
The whole room looked up as Morgana appeared in a cloud of ink-black smoke, smiling.
"Happy birthday, Guinevere... That's a beautiful crown you're wearing," she cooed, "Are you enjoying your party? Such a shame, I seem to have misplaced my invite."
"Guards!" Arthur yelled. They were waiting for the command and jumped to attention, but were blasted back and into the walls.
"I am not here to kill, your highness. Not yet." She smiled sweetly and walked forwards, sweeping guards and soldiers aside with a flick of her hand. "Honour dictates that I give you warning before I kill you... In three days, Arthur Pendragon, there will be battle. Sunrise. I will have the most powerful and terrifying creatures and sorcerers at my side. What will you have?" she laughed. "Pointy metal? Sharp sticks?" Her face lost its mocking smile and turned cold. "I will have my kingdom."
Arthur lifted his chin and stood. "Only a coward uses magic against a sword."
She smiled again. "Only a moron uses swords against magic. Be well. Good luck," she said, disappearing into the cloud of smoke again.