+Third's POV+
Gwen is with the knights in camp, listening to them all talk. Sighing, she knew that she had to keep pretending to be in love with Arthur and want him to be crowned king again, as well as fake Morgana out so she can win the hearts of the people and be crowned queen again. "It was nice being the one who ruled Camelot alone. Not having to wait on a man that is so stupid to make the rules, make the laws. I didn't have to worry about anything, well until my kingdom fell. Then again, I'll just fix all the problems before that could ever happen. Morgana will die as well as Arthur in this battle, I'll make sure of it." Gawain, walking behind her, heard all of this. Appalled by the way that Gwen would kill her husband, he slipped away, going back to camp hoping that Arthur was back there safe and sound.
Sadly, when Gawain returned, Arthur was nowhere in sight, either was Merlin. "Maybe they are together, off deciding how to destroy Morgana forever, or they could just be together. Oh, Arthur is not living this one down." walking back to his tent, Gawain snickers at the thought of Arthur's face when he confronts him about this.
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It's night at Morgana's camp. She is looking over the plans of massacring Arthur's army. "Maybe I could take out Emrys first, that will seal their fate, but it won't be easy. Why is this so hard to find a way to kill him? What if he is already seen what I am planning? How can I fix it to were I will always win?" Slamming her hand down on the battle strategy, wiping the frustration off her face. Trying to figure it out. A bird flies up to Morgana, holding a letter. "Ah, what has the lovely Gwen given me for the down fall of my dearest brother?"
Opening the letter, she smiles at the contents. "This will be very useful, thank you Gwen. You have done well, unfortunately, you will have to perish with the rest of them." Waiting for Mordred's men to show, she looks at the map. Canlan, it was where they fell last time. Arthur is destined to die on the battlefield, The small passage moving closer to Camelot. To his inescapable doom. "Soon my daring, precious brother. You will have the death that you deserve." Laughter fills the camp with the chill of a banshee. Morguse, sleeping in her tent, waiting for tomorrow.
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Sleeping the night away, Mordred and his right hand man, Agri are planning the invasion on Arthur. "We can cut him off this way, it could work-" Agri says, pointing at a cliff dropping. "No, we can stake out on the top, firing at them from above. Morgana will have an army that can take the rest out on the field. This will take them out easier and quickly." Mordred stabs the paper with his finger. Grinning ear to ear, with an inferno erupting inside of him, "We are almost there."
