Epilogue

The tower of wooden blocks was even taller than she was. It wobbled precariously as she stretched to the tips of her toes to balance her very last block on the very top of the tower. She held her breath as she let go of the block and stepped back, beaming when her tower remained standing.

It was the biggest and bestest tower she had ever, ever built.

Uncle Arthur usually helped her with her blocks but this time, she did it all by herself. She used all her blocks too, and not even one of them fell down. If she had more blocks, she could have made it even bigger and even better! Grandpapa would buy her as many blocks as she wanted to if she asked him. She would leave her tower standing and, when she got her new blocks, she would add to it and make it the biggest tower ever built, twice as tall as any tower in Camelot and much prettier. When it was finished, the new doll Aunt Vivian sent her could live there. Even if Nurse tried to make Moira or Elen tidy her blocks away, she would tell them "no" and they would have to do as she said, or she would tell Grandpapa and he would be cross with them for disobeying her.

"Want to show Mama," Vivienne Pendragon, Princess of Camelot announced, gesturing towards her tower. She spoke with as much authority in her voice as her grandfather did when he held court.

"The Crown Princess cannot come to the nursery today, milady," Nurse reminded her. "You know that she is unwell. You may visit her for a few minutes this afternoon, if you promise to be a good girl and not to make too much noise. Your mother will need her rest."

Vivienne frowned discontentedly. Nurse was a liar. She knew that her Mama wasn't ill, even if Nurse wanted to pretend that she was. She asked and Mama promised that she was well and that there was no need to be scared. She just had to rest because of the new baby, who was going to be born very soon, and that was why she was only able to have a few visitors. Nurse didn't think that a little girl should know about how babies came so she made up stories about Mama being ill. Everybody in the castle was waiting for the baby to be born to see if it would be a boy or a girl but her Mama knew already and told her. It was a big secret, just for the family, so she was very careful not to let Nurse or Moira or Elen know. They had to wait, like everybody else.

It was silly and mean not to let her see her Mama whenever she wanted to just because of a baby.

"Nasty baby!" The baby wasn't even born yet and it was keeping her from her Mama. It would be even more trouble after it was born and came to share her nursery and her servants.

"Milady!" Nurse scolded crossly. "That is a wicked thing to say!"

"Not a lady," she returned Nurse's cross look with one of her own. "I'm a p'incess." It was a new word, one she had learned not long ago, but she knew that it meant that she was a very important person – too important to have her Nurse scold her. Her Mama was a princess too.

"That's no way for a princess or a lady to speak," Nurse said firmly. "It's very naughty." She would probably have scolded her some more but the nursery door opened and, when she saw the visitor, she curtsied. "Good morning, Sire," she said in her very politest voice.

"Grandpapa!" Vivienne didn't have to curtsey. She ran to her Grandpapa, arms outstretched, and he picked her up, swinging her around in a circle before settling her in my arms.

"How's my little Vivvie?" he asked, kissing her cheek and beaming when she kissed him back.

"Good."

"That's what I like to hear." Uther bounced his granddaughter in his arms, relishing the sound of her delighted giggles. The palace was a different place with a child in the family. Not even when Arthur had been a sunny little boy, full of innocence and joy, had there been such happiness. He reached up to smooth a soft blonde curl back from her face, tickling her under the chin. When his gaze fell on the tower, he reacted with appropriate awe. "Did you build this all by yourself? I've never seen such a splendid tower!" He settled her in his arms, holding her so that they were face to face. "I was hoping that you would do me the honour of accompanying me on a visit to the stables. Would you like that?" Uther smiled at her enthusiastic nod, and then feigned forgetfulness. "Now there's something else we need, isn't there? I can't quite put my finger on it…"

"Cawwot!" Vivvie wriggled until her grandfather set her on her feet and then, grasping his hand with her much smaller one, she tried to tow him out of the nursery, ignoring Nurse's hissed admonition. The palace was very, very big and even though she had lived there for all of the three years of her life, she didn't know her way around all of it yet. The kitchens, however, were one of the places that she could always find and she tugged her grandfather towards them. The servants in the kitchen stopped their work to bow and curtsey when they saw them but there was no time to stop and say 'hello' today. Letting go of her grandfather's hand, she scampered towards the person she had come to see, tugging at her skirts and beaming up at her.

"Hello, poppet." Audrey, chief cook of the royal household, might be the terror of the kitchen servants who worked under her but there was a smile on her broad face as she set aside her bowl and looked down at the toddler by her side. "Just in time to lick the spoon – if you will allow it, Sire," she added hastily, noticing Uther's presence for the first time. At his nod, she passed her mixing spoon, thickly coated in a sweet, creamy concoction that would be used to ice the cakes for the birthing feast, down to an ecstatic Vivvie, who wasted no time licking it clean.

"Want cawwots, please," Vivvie requested, her treat not distracting her from her quest.

"For the horses?" Audrey asked knowingly, wiping her hands on her apron and summoning one of the kitchen maids with an imperious gesture. The carrots were placed in a little basket, which she handed down to Vivvie and, with a smile and a wink, she slipped a small handful of candied fruits and sugared nuts into the pocket of her gown. "And a little treat for you too, poppet."

"T'ank you," Vivvie said, remembering her manners. The basket was a little too heavy for her but she wanted to carry it to the stable all by herself so the horses would know that the carrots were from her. She wouldn't let Grandpapa take it but she let him carry her while she carried the basket.

Audrey had given her lots of carrots, more than enough for every horse in the stable to have one.

"Have you a carrot to spare?" Grandpapa asked her, after she finished feeding a carrot to his horse, the biggest and handsomest horse in all of the stables. When she nodded, showing him the basket that still had one fat carrot left in it, he smiled. "There's somebody you need to meet."

Uncle Arthur walked into the stable then, leading a horse by its bridle. It was the littlest horse Vivvie had ever seen, so little that she knew exactly who it must be for.

"My horsie?" For an answer, Grandpapa picked her up and sat her on the saddle, which was just the right size for her. "T'ank you!" She reached out to pat the mane, which was black and shiny.

"You're a big girl now, Vivvie," Uncle Arthur told her, putting the reins in her hands and showing her how to hold them just right, not too tight and not too loose. "You're going to be a big sister very soon. That's a very important, very special job – trust me, I know. We thought you should have a special present."

Vivvie frowned. Her new horse was very nice but she wasn't sure that she liked the idea of being a big sister. She liked having her Mama and her Papa, Grandpapa, Uncle Arthur, Uncle Balan and all of her other aunts and uncles to herself. It wasn't fair for a baby to come and think that it could take her family away and keep them all to itself. "Don't want a baby bwuvver!" she announced, before remembering that she wasn't supposed to tell anybody that the baby was a boy, not yet.

"Why not?" Uncle Arthur asked. "You like having a new aunt, don't you?" Grandpapa frowned a little at that but he didn't really look very cross. "Having a new brother will be like that, except that you'll be able to play together when he's big enough. Won't that be fun?"

"Maybe," Vivvie conceded reluctantly. It was a little dull without any other children for her to play with. Mama and Papa knew how to play good games, and so did Grandpapa, Uncle Arthur, Aunt Gwen and especially Uncle Balan, but Nurse and Moira and Elen weren't at all good at playing games. Maybe she could teach a baby to play good games and they could have fun together, as long as he didn't try to take her blocks or her dolls or especially her horse without asking first. She would see what her baby brother was like before she decided if she was going to like him or not.

"And you'll be able to learn to ride your pony and teach your brother when he's big, like you," Grandpapa told her. "He'll need you to take care of him. Do you think you can do that, for me?"

Vivvie nodded solemnly. Grandpapa was always very nice and she thought that she would do anything that he asked her to do, even if it meant taking care of her baby brother.

"Good girl," he praised her. Tyr, who was in charge of the royal stable, brought Grandpapa's horse over, saddled and ready to ride. "Why don't the three of us go for a ride together," he suggested.

"I'd like that, Father," Uncle Arthur told him.

"And me!" Next to her Mama and her Papa, Vivvie couldn't think of anybody better to ride with. The treats Audrey gave her were still in her pocket. Even though they were meant to be a secret, so nobody got cross with Audrey for giving her candies, Vivvie took them out, offering the sticky treats to her grandfather and uncle. They each accepted a couple but told her that she should keep the rest for herself. They promised not to tell Audrey that she let them know their secret.

"She never gave me any treats when I was a boy," Uncle Arthur grumbled. "Morgana never had any trouble getting cakes and candies out of her."

"Morgana never set a snake loose in the kitchens," Grandpapa reminded him. "And she never felt the need to grease the outside of the pots either, or to dump half a pound of salt in the soup. You should consider yourself lucky that Audrey didn't feed you porridge and boiled cabbage for every meal!" He turned to her and winked. "You make sure that your brother knows to stay on Audrey's good side."

Vivvie nodded solemnly, though she was giving the idea of getting her baby brother to play tricks on Audrey so that she could have the treats to herself the serious consideration it warranted.

As they rode out of the stables, the sun dazzled her eyes for a moment and, when her vision cleared, she beamed up at her grandfather and uncle. "I know a secwet," she told them.

"What secret, sweetheart?" Grandpapa asked.

"The baby's coming now."

"He's beautiful, my lady," Guinevere, promoted from maidservant to lady-in-waiting following her marriage to Arthur, had been the only person other than the midwives to attend Morgana as she gave birth. Once Gaius was admitted to the room long enough to examine the baby and confirm that he was as healthy an infant as could be wished, she reclaimed the new Prince of Camelot and rocked him in her arms while the midwives helped clean Morgana up and dress her in a clean nightgown, ready to receive visitors.

The baby's cradle was placed at the foot of Morgana's bed, where it would remain for the next eight days until the naming ceremony, when the newest addition to the family would be presented to the court, and then brought to the nursery he was to share with Vivvie.

Despite the midwives' clucking about how she needed to rest and gather her strength after childbirth, Morgana insisted on sitting up and holding her new son in her arms, examining every inch of him, from the dusting of hair on the top of his skull to his ten tiny, wrinkled toes.

It was a family joke that, despite sharing no blood with Arthur, Vivvie managed to look like she was his daughter. She had Balin's blonde hair, Morgana's green eyes and her fair complexion, and an inborn air of authority that everybody recognised as an inheritance from Uther. The new baby was very different; his skin was still wrinkled and reddened from birth but the wisps of hair on his tiny skull were jet black rather than blonde and, although the midwives swore that all babies were born with blue eyes and that they could change as he grew older, Morgana was certain that her son's eyes, which were already the exact shade of his father's, would stay blue.

Vivvie was a honeymoon baby but, even though her brother had kept his parents waiting just over three years longer before he joined the family, Morgana's memories of her daughter's birth were as fresh as if her children were born three days apart, rather than three years.

Gaius had left her with a draught to relieve pain, something she was deeply thankful for and, after she drank it, she drifted off, the sound of her new daughter's even breathing lulling her to sleep.

The faint sound of her baby crying stirred her from her slumbers but, when she woke, the room was quiet. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the dim light but, when she did, she could make out the outline of a figure at the foot of her bed, and she that she was cradling the baby in her arms, crooning softly as she rocked her back and forth. It was not Gwen or one of the midwives or anybody else who had any business being there.

"Morgause."

As soon as she spoke the name, the other woman turned to look at her, apprehension on her face. "I didn't mean to wake you, sister, I just wanted to see my new niece."

"Give me my daughter." While it was true that Morgause had made no further attempts to strike against Camelot or Uther in over a year, Morgana was far from comfortable with the sight of her new-born child in her sister's arms. She relaxed a little when Morgause obediently placed the baby in her arms and she could see for herself that she was safe and unharmed.

"I would never hurt her," Morgause vowed. "Or you. You're my only family. I'll leave if you want me to. I just wanted to see that you and she were well." She touched the top of the baby's head, stroking the silky strands of blonde hair with a gentle finger. "Does she have a name yet?"

Morgana and Balin had chosen a name, and let Uther, Arthur and Balan know what they would call their daughter but the name was not to be announced to the court until the ceremony.

"Vivienne," she said after a long pause. "We're calling her Vivienne."

"Have you decided what you're going to call him?" Guinevere asked, sitting down on the side of the bed and reaching out to tuck the soft blanket, woven of the best new wool, around the baby. "Or is it the Prince's turn to choose a name?" She could remember that there were some murmurs of disapproval when it was announced that the infant princess was to be the namesake of her maternal grandmother, a woman who betrayed her husband and bore another man's child. Morgana had not let that change her mind. If anything, it deepened her resolve.

"I have some ideas," a cheerful voice piped up from the doorway. The midwives weren't exactly pleased to see a man enter the room before they had had a chance to clear away all signs of the birth but Balin didn't even notice their disapproving expressions, or the barely respectful suggestions that it might be better if he gave the Crown Princess a little more time to recover from the rigours of childbirth before he paid her a visit. He crossed the chamber to Morgana's side, kissing her hand and then her cheek before he leaned over her shoulder to examine the baby.

"Absolutely not!" Morgana, having heard some of his suggestions, was not prepared to leave the naming of their new child in his hands.

"I think that my last idea was a fine one," Balin insisted teasingly. "I'm Balin, my brother is Balan. Balon would be a fine name for our boy, don't you think?"

"No." Morgana shook her head, all too aware that the significance of their son's name would be debated by the court as soon as it was announced to them eight days hence. As a little girl, she had had no intention of getting married or having children but thought that, if she had to, her first son would be named in honour of her father. However, if she called her son Gorlois, it would be seen as a slight against Uther and she had no wish to hurt his feelings. At the same time, however, it didn't feel right for her to call the baby Uther. Olaf was out of the question; not only did her father-in-law already have two grandsons who bore his name, her son was a Pendragon and a future King of Camelot, not a member of the royal house of Gwynedd. Balon was a less controversial choice than most but it was not a name she wanted to inflict on an innocent baby.

"If I may," Guinevere cut in before an argument, however good-natured, could erupt, "I have a suggestion."

"I think that's an excellent idea," Balin said approvingly, once she voiced her proposition.

"It is, thank you, Gwen," Morgana agreed, passing her son into his father's arms.

"What kind of magic do you think he will have?" Balin asked, staring down into the tiny, perfect face and marvelling at the thought that a day would come when this baby boy would rule over the greatest kingdom in Albion. It seemed like such a heavy burden for somebody so tiny to have to shoulder one day and he was determined to do everything in his power to help prepare him.

"He's barely an hour old!" Morgana objected. "It will be a long time before he can use magic, if he has it at all." As always, she was pleased by how readily Balin accepted the idea of magic. She told him before she agreed to marry him, seeing in him the best potential for a happy marriage out of all of the suitors who had vied for her hand. Her magic was not a secret she wanted to keep from her future husband and she was pleasantly surprised by his reaction. There was no fear or loathing, only awe, no small amount of curiousity, and glee that he now knew how she was able to lead them through the Impenetrable Forest to the Dark Tower. She reclaimed her son, letting him grasp her finger in his hand and reaching out with her Seer power to catch a glimpse of his future but there was nothing concrete. Her son's future was for him to shape.

There was a knock on the door and Balin sprang up to open it, grinning when he saw the visitors, particularly the smallest of them, who had been allowed to stay up during her mother's labour, with her grandfather and uncles doing their best to distract her. After nodding in greeting to Uther, Arthur and Balan, he bent down to swing Vivvie up in his arms, whirling her through the air before carrying her over to set her down on the bed next to Morgana.

"My bwuvver?" Vivvie asked, touching one of the tiny, wrinkled hands with a tentative finger. The doll Aunt Vivian sent her was much, much prettier but she supposed that he wasn't too bad.

"He is, my darling," Morgana told her, putting one arm around her daughter. "He's been waiting to meet you."

"May I?" Uther asked, waiting for her answering nod before he reached down to pluck his grandson out of his daughter's arms. The baby opened his wide blue eyes, looking up at his face for a moment before he dozed off, his fingers curling into fists. "What's his name?"

"That's not for us to say," Balin told him, enjoying their surprised reactions. "Lady Guinevere had a wonderful idea. She thought that we should let his big sister decide what to call him."

"Me?" Vivvie asked, proud to think that she had an important job to do already, after being a big sister for such a short time.

"Yes, you," Morgana confirmed. Later, when the effects of the draught Gaius gave her to relieve the pain wore off and she felt a little more clear-headed, she wondered how she hadn't had more misgivings about the idea of entrusting the choice of her new baby's name to a toddler. "What would you like to call him? You can take some time to think about it if you like."

Vivvie pondered the question carefully for several minutes, thinking of her favourite names and her favourite people and who she wanted her baby brother to grow up to be like.

"A'thur," she said at last, pronouncing the name slowly and carefully. Her Uncle Arthur was a big brother, like she was a big sister now. He was brave and kind and funny and generous and, if she had to have a baby brother, she wanted one who was like him.

The adults in the room exchanged wary looks, none of them wanting to be the first to break the silence and voice his or her opinion of Vivvie's choice, a choice none of them had anticipated.

"I like it," Morgana said, reaching out a hand to Arthur and smiling when he came closer to the bed and took her hand in his. "With your permission?" She liked the idea of naming her son after the man who had been a brother to her long before they knew of their true origins, but it was not something she was willing to do unless Arthur was comfortable with it.

"I like it too," Arthur agreed.

"And I," Uther seconded him, others following his example until every member of the family had voiced their approval and the matter was settled.

Eight days later, the nobles and commoners who crowded the Great Hall, eager to catch a glimpse of the newest addition to the royal family were formally presented with their future King:

Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot.

Five Years Later

The period of mourning after Uther's death lasted a full month.

He was not the only one to fall in the great battle against the Saxons and, in the month that followed his death, the people of Camelot mourned their dead, rebuilt damaged buildings, sowed crops to replace those the invaders had burned and prepared to start anew. The coronation of their new Queen marked the beginning of a new era, and no clearer evidence of this could be seen than the presence of representatives from the Druids and the Catha, along with the last High Priestess of the Triple Goddess, all of whom were honoured and welcome guests.

When the Saxons invaded Camelot, determined to use it as the base from which they would expand until they had conquered all of Albion, they little realised the mistake they were making.

Camelot did not stand alone.

Each of the rulers of the Five Kingdoms sent men and arms to aid in Camelot's defence, knowing that if one kingdom fell, the others would soon follow. Gaheris of Gwynedd, Princess Mithian of Nemeth's husband of four years, led his father-in-law's army into battle, fighting alongside his brothers, all of whom were leading men, with the three eldest brothers coordinating their efforts as generals of their father's army. Lords Bayard of Mercia and Godwyn of Gawant led their own men, as did King Caerleon, each of them determined to play his part in defending the land from its would-be conquerors. It came as something of a surprise that Uther took to the field himself instead of leaving it to Arthur and Balin to lead Camelot's forces, and even more of a surprise that Morgana insisted on joining them and was allowed to have her own way instead of being left in the citadel, where Guinevere and a company of knights guarded the royal children.

Merlin was one of the few who knew of the role Morgana had played in anticipating the strategies the Saxons would use at Camlann, which had allowed Camelot and its allies to adapt their defences to minimise their losses but, if she had foreseen that aid would come from an unexpected quarter, she had not said a word about it, to the best of his knowledge. For his part, he was a hairsbreadth away from using his magic to strike down the Saxon horde, wishing that he had thought to bring a disguise that would allow him to use magic without being recognised, when fire began to rain down from the sky, incinerating the Saxons while leaving Albion's soldiers unharmed.

Morgause, the last surviving High Priestesses of the Triple Goddess, rained down a fiery vengeance on those who sought to threaten the kingdom her sister was heir to, and she was not the only unexpected ally to lend assistance that day. The Druids were a peaceful people and would never have used their magic to take the life of enemy soldiers but they assisted Gaius in healing the wounded and also used their magic to bolster the shields the Catha raised. Between them, they managed to offer protection to hundreds of Albion's soldiers as well as to the base camp.

Never before had so many of the peoples of Albion been united in a single goal. Even those who feared magic could not fail to be grateful for the aid it rendered in the terrible battle.

Uther fell in battle, throwing himself between Arthur and a fatal blow intended for him. He lingered long enough to be brought to the healing tents, where Gaius and the most skilled of the Druid healers examined his wounds and regretfully reported that there was nothing they could do for him, save to ease the pain of his passing. Merlin was present, hovering in the background, as Uther said his final farewell to Arthur and Morgana, asking them to pass on a kiss from him to Vivvie and young Arthur and charging them to defend Camelot to the last man.

Stories of their victory would echo through the ages.

Morgana's coronation was not just a celebration of Camelot's new Queen.

It was a celebration of the peace they had fought for and won, of the closer ties forged with other kingdoms in the heat of battle, and of the change in the law that allowed those with magic to emerge from hiding and claim their rights as citizens of Camelot. Morgana's public announcement that she had magic had shocked the kingdom, rocking the beliefs of those who, though they saw magic as evil, could not deny that their new Queen was a kind soul who served Camelot well.

"Morgana tells me that she plans to invite the Druid Aglain to stay in Camelot," Gaius observed, as he and Merlin snatched a few minutes to themselves in the chaos of preparing for the coronation to ready themselves for the event. "She also asked Alator of the Catha but he must return to his people, and is to send one of his apprentices in his stead. I believe that she also intends to invite Morgause." The last choice would have been particularly unthinkable as lately as a month ago, given Morgause's past actions against Camelot but, after her aid at Camlann, people were much more inclined to accept her presence at court. As the last High Priestess of the Triple Goddess, Morgana would need to include her if she was not to cause offence to many of those who adhered to the Old Religion and would take it amiss if she was ignored. "They will each take a seat on her Council so that they may advise her on matters relating to magic."

"That's a good idea," Merlin said quietly, focusing on brushing a non-existent wrinkle from his crimson woolen tunic so that he did not have to meet Gaius' worried gaze. His wardrobe had expanded considerably following Arthur's marriage to Guinevere, as she insisted on providing him with new clothes, warmer and of better quality than any he had worn before. Thankfully, she did not demand that he wear the de Bois livery – not that Agravaine de Bois would want her to, given that he had not yet forgiven Arthur for forcing him to recognize a servant girl as Lady de Bois – and, as Arthur's servant, he was spared the hated official livery of the servants of the royal household. Even after over five years of marriage to Arthur, he knew that she was not fully at ease with her role as his mistress when they were once servants together. For his part, there was no lady at court he would rather serve.

"It's not too late to tell her about your magic, my boy," Gaius said gently, as protective of Merlin as ever, despite the fact that a dozen years separated him from the youth he was when he first arrived in Camelot. "She will understand why you could never tell her. I can explain it to -"

"No," Merlin cut him off.

During the past month, Gaius had made multiple attempts to convince him that there would never be a better time for him to reveal his magic to Morgana but he still hesitated. A lifetime of being on his guard, warned never to let anybody know about his magic, had kept him from using magic at Camlann, for fear that Uther's more lenient attitude towards magic since he learned that his daughter possessed it would not keep him from banishing him if he saw him use it. Even if his life was spared, the idea of having to leave Arthur was unbearable. The idea that Arthur would take the news badly, angry and hurt that Merlin had never confided in him, despite the long years they spent together and the friendship they had forged, was even more painful.

"Morgana knows what it was like for people with magic while Uther was King," Gaius reminded him. Even when sentences of death ceased to be handed down to those accused of using magic, except when they were convicted of using their magic against Camelot or to harm another, most saw the wisdom in keeping their magic a secret if they could, in case Uther's more lenient policies did not last. "She will understand why you could never tell her before."

"Even when she told me about her magic?" Merlin challenged him. "I could have told her after that but I didn't."

"Because I told you that your magic must remain a secret," Gaius reminded him. "I have known Morgana since she was a little girl; if you tell her the truth, she won't hold the secret against you. She will understand that it was more difficult for you than it was for her; Uther would never have harmed her or sent her away but you did not enjoy the same protection."

Merlin hoped that this was true but, even so, he was not going to tell her, not yet.

"I will tell Arthur first. I owe him that much."

Had things been different, today would be the day of Arthur and Guinevere's coronation. Merlin imagined that before Arthur was crowned King, he would have confided in him about his magic, finally telling him about all of the times that he had used it in his service, and vowing that he would continue to use it to help Arthur, however he could. He would have been able to tell him of the Great Dragon and his prophecy so that Arthur could know that he was destined for greatness and that Merlin would be by his side the whole way, protecting and guiding him.

Arthur was not to be King but he should still be the first to hear the truth.

He didn't say so to Gaius but he also wanted to wait a little longer, until after Morgana's coronation and establishment of her Council, before she found out about him. He didn't doubt that, now that it was known that she was not only a friend to magic but that she would welcome its help, there would be sorcerers flocking to her, eager to see what rewards they could reap in exchange for promises of amazing feats of magic. He had no desire to be numbered among them, for her or anybody else, least of all Arthur, to think that he was lobbying for a seat on the Council or for some other position of honour at court.

He used to imagine that, once Arthur was King, he would no longer be his servant but would instead sit by his side in Council, as his closest advisor and right-hand man, the equal of any knight or noble. From time to time, he even considered the question of which title he would like to be known by, even though he knew in his heart that Arthur was unlikely to name a 'court sorcerer'.

Even if Morgana wanted to invite him to join her Council once she knew of his magic, he didn't know whether or not he would accept her offer. If he was a member of the new Queen's Council, he would no longer be able to serve Arthur and the idea of leaving him to ride out alone on his missions was unthinkable. Camelot might be at peace but he had learned never to underestimate Arthur's talent for finding trouble. He wasn't about to leave him to his own devices without being on hand to protect him when he needed it, especially if he no longer had to keep it a secret. It might do Arthur good to see for himself just how often he stood in need of rescuing.

He would only tell Morgana about his magic after Arthur knew… and after he figured out how best to broach the subject of the dragon who was still held captive below the castle, a dragon he had long ago promised to free and who was not especially pleased to be kept waiting.

"Don't wait too long," Gaius advised him, not liking to think that his nephew would stay quiet about his magic so long that he missed his best window of opportunity to tell Arthur the truth. He didn't want Merlin to end up in a position where he was the only sorcerer in Albion who could not be open about his magic. He deserved so much better than that.

"I won't," Merlin promised.

After helping Gaius into his best tunic, the one reserved for ceremonial occasions, Merlin excused himself, hurrying down to the Great Hall to find himself a good spot. The common people were welcome to attend the ceremony and, while space at each of the far sides of the Great Hall was to be reserved for servants, it would not be long before it was too crowded for him to squeeze in.

He weaved his way through the crowds of people, marveling at how different the palace was today, now that the veil of mourning that had shrouded it since Uther's death was lifted and colour returned to the court. The nobility were dressed in their finest clothes and jewels, while the knights were resplendent in scarlet tunics and cloaks, their chain mail gleaming like silver. Even the commoners were dressed in their best, which was why the shabby, wild-looking man in their midst stood out so much, with his worn garments engrained with years of dirt and his grey hair unkempt.

"You there," the wild man seized Merlin's arm as he passed, dragging him to a halt. "I need to speak with the Queen."

"I'm sorry but the Queen is not receiving petitioners today," Merlin told him, inwardly wondering why the man had chosen this day of all days to look to speak to Morgana. Since Uther's death, she had held daily audiences for any of her subjects who wished to speak to her, encouraging them to come to her with details of what they needed to rebuild after the Saxon invasion. However, for her coronation day, no audiences were scheduled. "If you wish, I can see to it that your name is put forward for an audience tomorrow."

"This matter has waited long enough," the man told him grimly. "Longer than the Queen has lived. My kin has been held prisoner for over thirty years and I mean to see him freed before the day is over. The Queen claims to be a friend to magic. It's time for her to prove it."

Merlin could think of only one creature of magic who had been held prisoner for so long but he didn't dare to ask, not when there were so many curious onlookers within earshot. Instead, he promised to see what he could do to arrange for the man to be able to see Morgana after the ceremony. He was certain that, once she knew that magic was involved, she would find time to hear the man's story. "What name can I give?" he asked, hoping that he would be able to keep his word and find a moment to speak to Morgana privately.

"Balinor," the man told him. "My name is Balinor."

A hush fell over the Great Hall as the doors opened and Morgana began to make her way down the carpeted path to the dais, on which a gold throne, cushioned in crimson velvet, was waiting, along with Geoffrey of Monmouth, who held the crown in his hands.

Tomorrow, Balin was to be formally crowned as her consort and would take his place on a throne by her side but he and her Council were in agreement that she must be crowned Queen alone. For today, he stood in the very front row, with little Arthur and Vivvie next to him, a proud, encouraging smile on his face as he watched her.

The entire front row was filled with members of their family. King Olaf was not in attendance but all of his sons were present, with those who were married accompanied by their wives and any children who were old enough to be trusted to behave themselves during the ceremony. History had repeated itself, in a sense; Olaf had fathered six sons and only one daughter, and Vivvie was his only granddaughter so far, with his grandsons numbering eleven following the recent birth of Gaheris and Mithian's third son. Even Lady Vivian was present, eagerly claiming the spot next to Vivvie. Thankfully, her once passionate infatuation with Arthur had not outlasted his marriage to Guinevere – Olaf claimed that Arthur's imprudence was all the proof his beloved daughter had needed to finally see that he was not the man for her – or her jealousy might have been an unpleasant scene, as Arthur and Guinevere were standing just beyond her.

Morgana was glad to see that Guinevere did as she asked and saw to it that Gaius and Merlin were standing with her and Arthur rather than with the palace servants. They were her friends and they shouldn't be relegated to the sidelines today, regardless of their status.

Once she reached the dais, she knelt before the throne and Geoffrey took a step forward to lead her in her coronation oath, her vow to the people that she must now rule.

"Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the peoples of Camelot according to their respective laws and customs?"

"I solemnly swear so to do."

"Will you to your power cause law and justice, in mercy, be executed in all your judgments?"

"I will."

"Then by the sacred law vested in me, I crown you Morgana, Queen of Camelot."

Once Geoffrey gently placed the jeweled crown, crafted for Arthur's mother so many years ago, on her head, Morgana rose to her feet and turned to face the court.

"Long live the Queen!"

Arthur was the first to acclaim her and a swell of voices echoed him.

"Long live the Queen!"

"Long live the Queen!"

"Long live the Queen!"

"Long live the Queen!"

"Long live the Queen!"

A new era for Camelot had dawned.

THE END