Chapter Text
One evening, there was a grandiose ball at Camelot’s citadel as the people celebrated the 15th wedding anniversary of King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot and Queen Murainn Dragonborn of Dyred.
People from all over both Kingdoms, noble and common, had arrived at the fortified city to participate in the varying festivities that were organised, such as the jousting tournament or magic competition.
It was a time of great joy as Albion was in its most affluent era since the fall of the Roman Empire.
The Anglo-Saxons were still a threat, even more so since Mercia had fallen.
But that threat was not an obstacle for the wedding celebrations.
At the evening banquet, wine was flowing as magic users entertained the non-magical guests.
Murainn observed the festivities with a smile on her face as her youngest child, Hector (who was 4 years old), was sitting on her lap as she was seated on the grand table on a similar throne to her husband’s but draped in Dyred’s colours.
They’d been married for 15 years now, reigning over non-Anglo-Saxon Albion ever since the spirit of Uther Pendragon had been sent back to the spirit world.
The spirit had attempted to kill the Queen of Dyred and her children, but Arthur blew the horn in time.
That had been the scariest moment of Mura’s life.
No moment from the war against Morgause and Cenred had come close.
Magic was now free to use, which made raising the Princesses of Camelot so much easier.
Not only did the King’s Ward inherit her mother’s magic, Princess Aethelthryth, Princess Órlaith and Princess Lyonesse possessed their mother’s magic too.
The 33-year-old woman hoped she and Arthur had many more years to come, to be alive together to raise their children and hopefully see a few grandchildren being born before their respective demises.
War was, however, constantly looming over them.
The Queen of Camelot preferred to keep her sons closer, but both Amhar and Kellan were now squires and trained to wield a sword in battle.
The old ways of life continued with the next generations of Pendragons.
Though neither twin son had been betrothed already, both had been introduced to Lot’s daughters as well as the daughters of Queen Elena of Gawant. Negotiations were now ongoing.
With the threat of an Anglo-Saxon invasion of Essetir, Lot was rather desperate to marry at least one of his daughters to a Briton Prince as he feared demands from the Anglo-Saxons that he married his daughters off to their Kings and Princes.
At least for now there was peace between sorcerers and those who did not possess magic, a development which had only ever been beneficial to everyone in the two Kingdoms. It allowed their army to become stronger, and better prepared in combat.
Avalon would yet have to wait for their arrival, for they were not yet ready to go there.
-----
THE END