A/N: Not sure if Mithian would be a "my lady", a "your royal highness", a "your grace" or what. Not really a royal watcher. I am pretty sure she wouldn't stop being a princess because her father died…I think I'm going to go with, titles were really uncomplicated in the dark ages, or something. Also, Agravaine called Morgana "my lady", so…yeah, I assume he was addressing her as a princess, not the king's former ward. Anyone disagree? Let me know.

"What was it like?" Mithian asked as they rode toward Inensbrook.

"The land of the dead?" Merlin asked. "I'm not supposed to say. But I can tell you that your father was with his forefathers, the kings of Nemeth, and he was happy."

"Truly?" Mithian asked.

Merlin nodded.

"I suppose that's more than most people get. Somehow it lessens my grief somewhat—makes it more like he's on some kind of holiday," Mithian said.

"I know you've accepted the idea of having a natural brother. Are you prepared to meet him?" Merlin asked.

"I think so. I wonder if he is prepared for what he will find if we can convince him to come to court with us," Mithian said.

"I would have liked to find out I had siblings. I would have loved to meet my father's other children, if he had had any," Merlin said.

"But your parents were married, weren't they?"

"No. My father was the last Dragonlord. He fled Camelot after helping Uther imprison the Great Dragon in the caves beneath his city. Uther would have killed him, because, having taken care of the dragons, his usefulness was over. And he had magic, after all," Merlin said.

"And did your mother know him in Camelot?"

"No. He fled across the border to another kingdom and there met my mother. They fell in love, and would have married, but Uther sent soldiers after him. He fled again, never knowing that he had fathered a son until shortly before his death," Merlin said.

"Did you ever meet him?" Mithian asked.

"Yes. It was very difficult for me, especially since he died just afterward, but I will always cherish his memory. I have been in the same position as Ian, and I know I would want to meet you and your sisters, no matter how much trouble it caused me," Merlin said.

"That makes me feel better, but you do realize you are rather remarkable, don't you?" Mithian asked.

Merlin smiled. "I suppose I can't very well call myself the average villager."

They rode in silence for some time, and then Mithian broke the silence. "Your father, did he have the same kind of magic as you? Because if he did he could have fought Uther and his men, and stayed with your mother."

"That is a thought I have more often than I would like to admit," Merlin said. "He could have taught me so many things about what I am. I don't even know what a Dragonlord is, really. My father told me briefly what it was all about, and the only other person whose taught me anything about it is a dragon, and it's rather in his interest not to tell me too much about what I can command him to do, isn't it?"

Mithian laughed, and Merlin smiled at her. She was a good friend to listen to his story, especially when she had so many things going on in her life.

"We approach the village, my lady," Sir Gilbert said.

"Will you come in with me when I speak to him?" Mithian asked Merlin.

"Of course," Merlin said. He could tell she was more nervous than she was letting on. It must be important to her to make a good impression. Considering the suspicious, contentious relationships she had with the rest of her siblings, she was probably thinking she could find a real friend in a village man with no particular agenda. Merlin had known all sorts of people from small towns and villages, and knew that just because the man was poor did not make him kind, or naïve, or charming and brave. Poverty could just as easily make a man weak, and bitter, and cruel. He hoped for Mithian's sake, and for the sake of their plan, that Ian was a good fellow.

Sir Gilbert asked around and found out that Ian lived on a small farm with his wife and two sons on the outskirts of town. They rode up the farm and saw a strongly muscled, handsome man of middle years working in his garden.

"I want none of your lies," he said to the party in general.

"Excuse me?" asked Merlin. "Which lies, exactly?"

"In the tavern the other night a party of well-dressed people like you came through and told me that there was a cart over turned in the road. When I went out to help, they attacked me. If I can handle myself with those ones, I can handle myself with you," he said.

"Are you Ian?" Mithian asked.

"Yes," he said. "Now piss off!"

"There's been a mistake," Mithian said. "Those people you met before, I suspect they were here to kill you. I know who sent them. A group of bandits came after me, too. I am not here to hurt you. I want to protect you—to make it so you need never fear for your safety again."

"I don't need any help protecting myself, especially not from a slip of a girl," Ian said.

"If I am so small and weak, perhaps you would not be too frightened to invite me in and let me tell you why I am here," Mithian grated out.

"Alright, I suppose there's no harm in that," Ian said.

"But I want to bring my friend Merlin," Mithian said, gesturing to Merlin.

He grunted his agreement and put down his trowel, washing his hands in the well as he went by.

"Beth, we've visitors," he grumbled. "They don't need any seeing to. They're here to protect me, they say."

"That's right strange," Beth said.

"You said it," he said, sitting down at the table. "Can my wife stay?"

"Of course. This concerns her, too. And your sons," Mithian said.

Ian's eyes narrowed. "What do you know about my sons? You stay away from them!"

Merlin could tell Mithian was getting frustrated, so he placed a hand on her shoulder to let her know he would take over for a minute. She nodded and he said, "What did your mother tell you about your father?"

"Oh, not this again. My mother was always saying how my father was a great lord and ever so important and wonderful. It might be true, for all I know. It never did me a bit of good."

Merlin looked at Mithian and she motioned for him to continue. "I'm afraid it's still not doing you much good. Those people wanted to kill you because the late king recently found out you're his son, and his brother, your uncle, doesn't want you claiming the throne."

Ian stared at Merlin, then stared at his wife, then stared at Mithian. "Who's she then, the bloody queen?"

"My mother is dead, and our uncle's wife is back at the castle. I am your sister, Princess Mithian," she said.

"And who are you?" Ian asked Merlin.

"No one. A friend," he said.

"I met him when he was serving a foreign king. He was a powerful wizard masquerading as a manservant to protect a king who would have killed him if he'd known of his magic," Mithian said.

"So basically no one," Ian said dryly.

"I just didn't want to complicate things. You all have a lot to deal with," Merlin said.

"So this means my sons, my boys, are royalty?" Beth asked.

"They are. And that can confer great privilege on them, but right now it could also put them in great danger. I am in danger right now, too. That is why Merlin is here. He might not look like it, but he is an extremely capable protector," Mithian said.

"So what happens now?" Ian asked.

"I want to take you with me to the castle, and have you recognized as my brother. I must be honest with you. Our father's death was murder, and it had everything to do with him wanting you to be recognized as his son. You will be in danger if you come to the castle with me, but there you will have a select group of knights I feel we can trust and Merlin here to protect you and your family. Here you will be at the mercy of whatever group of bandits Tobias pays off to kill you or your sons."

Ian looked at his wife. "I suppose I have no argument against that. We have no choice but to do what you say."

Mithian put a hand on Ian's arm. "I want to be even more honest. You, I, and your sons will be bait. We are going to try and draw out our father's killer by being alive and in his face when he wanted us dead. But I really would like us to be friends. I have never had a brother. I know you are much older than me, but I don't see that as a barrier to us getting along. Please believe me when I say I sincerely want to get to know you, and your wife and children."

"You can't want to know me. I'm a nobody. I'll stay here and mind the farm," Beth said.

Merlin looked at her. She was sturdy and stout and she had grit in her that he doubted she even knew about. As he looked at her, he could see a line of men in crowns that passed down through the ages. "Madam, you should watch who you call a nobody, for you are the mother of kings. I see twelve generations of them with your blood."

Mithian said. "I didn't know you could see the future."

"I can't, usually. But this woman is the mother of kings. I've never seen anything more clearly. Her descendants will shape the destiny of this land."

"I hope that doesn't mean I have to be king," Ian said.

"No, I don't think so," Merlin said. "One of your sons will. The younger one, I think. Donal, is it?"

"I suppose this means we have to go with Mithian. At the very least, Donal should know his way around the castle before he's crowned," Ian said, laughing rather hollowly.

"I am sorry this was so abrupt. I wish I could have made this easier on you," Mithian said.

"I have always wondered if this fine lord my mother always talked about would one day show up and give me an inheritance. I never expected…Listen, Mithian, about what you said earlier, I do want to try. I was raised with a cousin about my own age, but everyone knew he was the good one and I was the bastard. He never let me forget it. It made me grow up tough and mean, but I always envied people who had close families. I might not be a great brother, but I'll try."

"Well, I suspected my sisters of poisoning my father for a chance at the throne, so I might not be the best example of a sister, either. But I really want to be a real sister to you," Mithian said.

"Well, I'll go round up the boys. I don't know what we'll do for horses," Ian said.

Merlin got up to leave the house. "I'll see what Sir Gilbert can do. Beth, you must pack everything that matters to you. You might not be able to return for some time."