Chapter Text
It had been three years since Morgana split from Uther. Three years since dark magic had been released in Camelot, the likes of which had not been seen since the great Purge, over two decades before. Three years since Uther lost his wits and Arthur stepped in to rule. And all the while the druids kept quiet, under the guidance of Emrys, seeking out the remaining places of refuge for their kind. They did not leave Camelot. How could they? It was their home. Both groups repeated these words to themselves, when marching towards a foe or mourning for the loss of life in the land.
The war had been hard on Camelot. Once-green fields now smouldered, trees withered, lakes grew stagnant from body after body burnt on their surfaces. Yet the people did not give up hope. Their golden king would save them- especially now that king was Arthur. His father, Uther, had long forgotten his duties and handed them to his son, so when he had passed, the country had breathed a sigh of relief. As soon as Arthur defeated the dark forces of Morgana's magic, they would be fine. All magic, on reflection. Then it could never harm Camelot's citizens again. Keep Uther's ways, from when he was a good, strong king. Burning magic users at the stake. That was the way to go about it. Thank goodness Arthur was the younger, more handsome version of the last king. He knew how to lead Camelot. They would be fine.
So far, Emrys had escaped the war. Neither side had drawn her in, and she had been able to keep the druids safe- the one group maintaining the balance the Old Religion required. But her silence had gone on for too long, and she knew she had to act soon, and damn the consequences Magic desired. After all, there would be no Old Religion without her- Magic incarnate. So she sealed a letter and burnt it, safe in the knowledge that in the morning, The Once And Future King, Arthur Pendragon, would wake to find it lying in his desk, with an offer he couldn't afford to lose.