A/N: Thanks for all your reviews! Sorry for leaving it a few days when I promised a quick update. I've been really busy knitting hats for the premature baby ward at the hospital my mum works at. Thank God they're just babies and have no fashion sense; my hats are as misshapen as the ones Hermione knits for the house-elves.

A Graveside Conversation

The journey began early the next morning, with Merlin only stopping on his way down to the stables to tell Tenga to inform the other Founders where they were. He found Rowena by the stables, dressed in a long dark blue cloak, holding Helena firmly by the hand who was yawning and swaying sleepily on the spot. She perked up however when she saw Emrys.

"Are you coming too?" she asked happily. "Mama says we are going away for the day to see my papa's grave. I've never been before!"

Merlin nodded. "Yes, I'm coming. Someone needs to keep the both of you safe."

Rowena narrowed her eyes. "I'm perfectly able to keep myself safe."

"I know," said Merlin. "But you'll have other things on your mind. Let me worry about security."

She looked annoyed for the briefest of moments before sighing and nodding. She turned to the stable boy who was leading her white horse by the reins. She mounted expertly and held out her arms for the boy to lift Helena up beside her. She looked thrilled at being on a horse and began entwining her fingers in the horse's mane.

Merlin mounted his own horse and soon they were riding off, following a different path from the one he and Salazar had taken. They rode hard all morning, stopping only once to have a quick meal by the side of a running stream. They went slowly; the area was very mountainous and they often found themselves forced to go at a much slower pace to spare the horses. Merlin took this opportunity in which to talk to her.

"You're an experienced rider," he noted, glancing at her.

"Your point being?"

"Nothing," he said "just that noble ladies aren't often accustomed to riding at great speed. Take Helga for instance."

Rowena smiled. "Helga had an ideal childhood. Her parents were indulgent and she was very happy and had no need to ride far from home and no need to become a great rider."

"And you did?"

Rowena was quiet for a moment. "I went riding almost every day as a child," she said, her eyes glazed over. "It was … exhilarating to be freed from that dusty old castle where I was supposed to sit and learn to be a good wife and mother. I used to ride for hours and then settle down beside a loch to read my book."

She shook herself out of her daydreams. "But that stopped when I got married of course. My husband did not like me to ride far from home. It was … unseemly to be so wild, and besides, there was danger about, which he learned only too well."

They rode in silence for most of the rest of the day, Helena taking turns riding with her mother and Merlin to give the horses a break. Soon, they were in a massive valley, lined with tall trees, with a shining loch in the centre.

Rowena paused as she looked down below to see a small Muggle village, and beyond that, a great stone tower stood tall, casting great shadows over the village, looking strong and impenetrable. Rowena froze as she saw it, and gripped her reins ever tightly.

"That was where you used to live?" Merlin asked, in Latin so that Helena, who was sitting before him now, would not understand.

She nodded, still rather pale.

"That is the Ravenclaw Broch," she said nodding. "I lived there after we got married. I came from the next glen, and our two clans often fought, and I was … the peace offering, so to speak. Then when Ruairidh was killed by Vikings the Muggles in that village rose up against me."

Merlin glanced at it, looking formidable rising above the ground for several feet. "And who lives there now?"

"Probably his mother."

"Helena has a grandmother?" Merlin asked, surprised.

Rowena nodded. "Yes."

"But she doesn't see Helena?"

"No," said Rowena, her voice cold. "She has no interest in her. She never liked me and thought her son made a huge mistake in marrying a witch. She was one of the ones leading the angry mob after they brought Ruairidh's body back."

Merlin sat staring at the tower completely appalled. "Didn't she know you were pregnant?"

"Oh, she knew," Rowena sad, her voice hard. "But she refused to believe I was carrying her grandchild. She accused me of lying with the Devil himself. She said I was never worthy of her son."

Merlin felt the anger building. "Well," he said, keeping his temper under control. "She was wrong in that respect. A man would have to work incredibly hard to ever be worthy of you."

Rowena looked at him, surprised by his praise, though pleased. Merlin looked away, feeling a little uncomfortable and oddly embarrassed.

"What about your own family?"

"My mother died when I was very young," she said, "and my father died not long after my wedding. Helena is the only family I have now."

As she heard her name, Helena looked up and frowned. "What are you saying? I'm a big girl, I want to know!"

Merlin smiled down at her. "It's just boring adult things. Don't worry."

Merlin turned to Rowena. "Where is the grave?"

Rowena pointed to a hill about five miles distant. "All the males in my husband's family were buried there. He would have been taken there also."

"Then let's go."

"What about the Muggles?"

Merlin stopped and held his hand over the village, summoning his magic. "Hȳdan
ūs fram gesihþ. Lǣtan ūs ādrēogan. Lǣtan se dohtor gieldan gafol tō hiere
fæder."

His eyes flashed golden and a shimmering haze fell over the village.

"It's done," said Merlin. "They won't be able to see us."

"And this will last the full day?" Rowena asked, looking at him curiously.

"It should," said Merlin. "I'll constantly monitor it to make sure."

Rowena smiled gratefully. She opened her mouth, and hesitated before speaking. "Thank you. I … I could not have done it."

Merlin grinned, amused by her reluctance to admit a perceived failing. 'Don't mention it. Let's go."

He rode forwards with Rowena and they crossed the valley floor and towards the next hill. Merlin carefully monitored the spell he had cast as they passed by the village. For some reason he was nervous, which seemed ridiculous since he knew this spell was too powerful to be broken by a Muggle. But still, passing so close to the very same Muggles who had tried to kill Rowena, close enough to hear their conversations in the village market place was unsettling to say the least.

They picked up speed once further away from the village and headed straight to the hill. They reached the base and they dismounted from their horses, seeing the small and winding path that led to the summit, too delicate to risk their mounts. Merlin tied the two creatures to a nearby tree, and passed his hand over them muttering a soft spell as he did so, hiding them from any Muggle who could happen to come by.

Rowena lifted Helena from Merlin's horse and set her on the ground, looking up at the path doubtfully. It seemed she was almost nervous to go up.

"I'll wait here if you like," Merlin offered, feeling like he might be intruding, but Rowena turned to him with a sad smile.

"You needn't offer," she said. "You're here now. You might as well come."

"Please come with us," Helena said, smiling at him.

So, he did. They set off together climbing up the steep and often difficult path, he and Rowena often carrying Helena when she found the going tough. She seemed frightened of heights and did not much enjoy the narrow mountain path. They were all silent, a sort of sombre mood had descended upon them all. Merlin began to feel nervous again, though he wasn't quite sure why.

After about an hour of steady climbing, they reached the final stretch. A few straggling trees lined the path, and each one had faded ribbons woven into the branches in several colours. They fluttered morosely in the soft breeze, and sent shivers up Merlin's spine. They reminded him of the Druidic practice of doing the same thing to ward off evil spirits.

"They are prayers for the dead," Rowena explained, noting his curious looks. "The closest female family member weaves one in the days after death and attaches it here to send their loved one into the next life. It is said that as long as the ribbon flies in the wind, the departed soul shall find peace."

She frowned. "I never got the chance to make one for Ruairidh."

"His mother will have," Merlin said, trying to reassure her, but she shook her head sadly.

"It should have been me. It was my duty to honour him in death."

"It's hardly your fault."

Rowena didn't answer back, and instead took hold of Helena's hand more tightly and moved forwards with intent as the path leveled out and the found themselves at the crest of the hill. The wind was stronger here, and Rowena's long hair blew around her face in a wild tangle, which she didn't even attempt to control. There was a large flat space before them, sloping down sharply on every edge, making it dangerous to stray too close from the path.

Before him were many graves in the form of earthen mounds heaped with stones. Some had more ribbons attached, others had the helmets of defeated enemies resting on top of them and yet more had wildflowers scattered on top.

Rowena moved down the gap between the two rows of cairns heading straight towards the very edge of the hill, where an even larger cairn stood, higher and more dominant than the rest. Merlin felt another chill as he grew closer. Rowena seemed to hesitate as she drew closer to it, staring at it with wide sad eyes. Helena looked at it unaffected, curious, but unemotional; she could not understand just what this symbolised.

Rowena stopped at the foot of the grave and watched it silently, a whole torrent of emotions crossing her face. She seemed to be shuddering.

Then, she took out her wand and muttered a quick spell, and a whole garland of flowers appeared in mid-air, filling the air and solemn atmosphere with a sweet fragrance. She stepped forwards and placed it over the grave. "Sìth gun robh maille riut, Ruairidh," she said, 'Peace be with you, Ruaridh'.

Helena was watching with a strange look on her face. Her eyes were on the flowers.

"Psst," Merlin whispered to her. She turned and he held out his hand. In the centre of his palm a single rose grew up and hovered in the air. He handed it to her. Her eyes lit up and she took it and hurried over to the grave where she laid it down beside her mother's flowers. Rowena looked surprised when she saw it, but turned and smiled gratefully at Merlin when she realised where it had come from.

"Is this where my papa is?" Helena asked her mother.

"Yes, this is where he lies."

"And what happened to him? How did he get here?"

Rowena's eyes were filled with sorrow. "He was fighting against some bad men. They killed him."

Helena frowned. "That was a very bad thing to do."

"Yes, it was."

"And that's why you're sad?"

Rowena nodded, though she looked confused. "Yes."

Helena nodded, and looked back at the grave, probably trying to imagine how her father could be under such a large pile of stones.

"What was he like, mama?"

Rowena smiled. "He was very brave, and kind. The villagers loved him because he was very generous and helped them when they needed his help. He would have loved having a daughter."

Helena looked at the grave again, possibly considering what it would have been like to have a father. "Tell me more about him."

And Rowena talked, telling Helena more about her father, telling anecdotes and stories about what he used to do in the castle and how everyone loved him. Merlin turned away and instead looked across the valley, his eyes on the Muggle village, telling himself he was watching out for trouble but really just giving them a moment of privacy. In the end though, he found himself turning back around, intrigued by how Rowena was talking about him. She had never spoke of him in that way before.

Helena was listening raptly. "Can he see me?" she asked. "Does he know what I'm like?"

Rowena hesitated, but Merlin answered for her. "Perhaps," he said. "He could be watching over you right now."

Helena looked amazed, and a small smile crossed her features. "Can I tell him about my life at the school?" she asked. "Will he hear me?"

"There's no harm in trying," Merlin told her, and Helena immediately plonked herself by the cairn and started whispering to her father all about the castle, and all her house-elf friends. Rowena came back to stand with Merlin.

"Perhaps telling her this wasn't wise," she said in Latin.

"Don't you believe in an afterlife?"

"It isn't logical," she said, frowning. "It makes no sense for us to go on living after death."

"None of understand life's great mysteries, even you Rowena," Merlin said. "It doesn't mean that we should dismiss them. Let Helena have this moment. If she believes he can hear her, then let her be. She may be able to find comfort in it, and it can help her connect to her father."

Rowena nodded resignedly. "That is all I wish."

She moved away further and sat on the log of a tree. Merlin sat beside her.

"I've never heard you talking about your husband like that before," he said to her. "You make him sound like a saint."

"I could not very well tell her the bad parts could I?" Rowena said back. "Let her believe it if she wants."

"It's kind of you, perhaps too kind."

"She is young," Rowena said. "Let her have this time of innocence."

"You seem sad," Merlin said.

"Of course I am!" she said. "I am at my husband's graveside!"

"But you did not love him," Merlin said, "You have told me that much before."

Rowena looked away from him. "No, I did not. But he was a good man, for all his faults. I liked him, and I was grieved to learn of his death."

"Only 'liked him'? It seems an unhappy existence. Did you like being married to him?"

"He was never unkind to me," Rowena said, twirling her wand in her fingers as though troubled. "But … I felt trapped. Like I could not be myself, and … I retreated into myself, and read for hours and learned all I could, even if he disapproved. I needed to escape into another world. One in which I could be free."

"It does not sound kind to me."

"He died defending me and the village in battle," Rowena insisted. "In that, I cannot fault him. He was brave, and gave his life so that the rest of us could live."

"Do you miss him?" Merlin asked gently, getting right down to the matter.

Rowena was silent for a very long time, so long that Helena's gentle whispers were audible in the air.

"We were supposed to bring about peace between our two families," she said, very quietly. "I wanted to prove myself to the people, to prove that I could be wise, and just, and have every one say how capable and intelligent I was. But all of that failed, and I had nothing left, except Helena."

She looked down at her hands, which were twisting in her lap. "The honest answer, Emrys, is no, I do not. I missed the idea of him more than anything else. I had not wanted to marry him, but when I did I thought that this was my chance to finally make the world a better place, to help others and stop them feeling as abandoned and trapped as I had. That is why I want this school so badly, it was the thing that kept me going, the thing that gave me purpose."

She laughed softly, breathing heavily. "But Ruairidh … he was a good man, but I could never have been truly happy with him."

Merlin nodded, his own heart heavy. "This school gives me purpose as well," he said. "I've waited a long time for something like this, something that can make me feel useful again."

"Perhaps we are more alike than we think," said Rowena, offering him a weak smile, so unlike the condescending ones she usually gave him.

"Perhaps," laughed Merlin. He moved closer to her. "You could not have stayed married to him, Rowena. It would have destroyed you. Your beauty and light and wisdom would have faded."

A flash on anger came into her eyes. "Are you glad then that he is dead?" he voice a little louder. "That Helena is left without a father?"

"No," said Merlin resting his hand on her arm. "I am not. But everything happens for a reason, even if we hate that fact. It is our duty to find the good in every situation, and that is just what you have done. The school shall be testament to you, Rowena. Your life here would have hidden you away, now you can share your vision with the rest of the world."

Her glare softened, and she smiled a little, but still, she looked sad. She looked down at his hand which was still gently resting on her arm, but she didn't seem to mind. "I worry about Helena, though," she said. "She was denied this life, and I'm not sure whether life at the school will be good for her. She deserved a father."

"But I have you, mama," Helena said. Merlin jumped, he hadn't even noticed her approaching. "I don't need a father. I've got you, and Aunt Helga, Uncle Salazar, Uncle Godric and Emrys. And I've got the house-elves."

"House-elves do not make up for a father, Helena," her mother said to her, though an affectionate gaze had come into her eyes.

Helena shrugged. "Maybe. But they're my friends, and I love all of you. I'm happy, mama. Don't be sad because of me."

Rowena watched her for a moment, and then pulled her into a hug, her shoulders shaking as though she had suddenly broken down. Merlin stood up from the log and walked off, leaving them for a moment. He looked off into the distance, feeling a strange feeling building in his heart. Being with Rowena … it affected him in a completely different way that it had ever done for someone before.

Then, moving shapes on the horizon caught his eye. He turned back to the mother and daughter, still locked in an embrace.

"We should go," he said. "There are people heading this way."

Rowena looked up in alarm, and stood, taking Helena's hand. "Then let's leave."

"Goodbye papa," Helena said, blowing a quick kiss at the grave.

They all headed back down the path they had come up, finding it easier to climb down than up. They reached the bottom pretty quickly, and moved over to where the horses were tied, when suddenly, a group of people rounded a bend in the road and stepped out in front of them.

Merlin jumped and immediately checked that the spell was still in effect, breathing in relief when he realised it was. He checked once more when he saw how heavily armed some of the Muggles were. There were around ten of them; nine fully armed soldiers and one old lady. She was walking at the head of the group, dressed in a black dress, her white hair flowing freely onto her shoulders. She clutched a posy of flowers, and shuffled forwards weakly, and with great difficulty. But despite her age and frailty, there was a stern look to her brow, and her eyes were cold. He didn't need to hear Rowena's gasp to know that this was her former mother-in-law.

Thankfully, the woman did not see them, and moved up the path, passing blindly past them and towards the summit of the hill where her son was buried. Neither Merlin nor Rowena moved until she had passed completely out of sight. He looked at Rowena and saw a distressed look on her face.

"Who was that?" Helena asked.

Rowena glanced at her in a panic. "She's …"

"She's just an old lady passing through," said Merlin quickly. Helena did not need to know that her own grandmother had tried to have she and her mother burned at the stake before she was even born.

Rowena smiled at him gratefully, and she climbed onto her horse. Merlin lifted Helena and set her in front.

"Let's ride back immediately."

The journey back was spent by Merlin trying to sort out his very confused thoughts. Was he really such a hypocrite as this? Telling Rowena to move on from her past and focus on her new life, when all he was doing was trying to restore his own past? It made him uncomfortable to think how obsessed he had been with this for the last three centuries. Now he was reconsidering everything he had previously thought about his mission.

They got back to the castle and had a late evening meal with the other Founders, Godric still absentmindedly stroking the spot where his beard had once been. They discussed the opening of the school which was now only a month and a half away.

"We still don't have a name for the school!" Helga sighed, looking around the room. "I think and I think and I think yet nothing strikes me. We must think of a name."

"Something unique," Godric agreed. "So that no one will ever forget it."

"How about … The-place-to-go-to-learn-not-to-annoy-sleeping-dra gons?"

"Shut up, Salazar."

"What about those ideas you had, Rowena?" Helga asked her. "Something about a dream?"

Rowena flushed slightly. "That was silly nonsense. No name for a school."

"I have told you before," said Merlin winking at her. "Silliness should be respected, not censured."

"Exactly," nodded Godric. "We can show the Wizards' Council just how little we care for their stiff and formal decrees."

"I do not wish the school to be a laughing stock," Rowena said, in such a stiff voice that everyone knew it was final.

There was some half-hearted discussion after that, but still, nothing was decided, and Merlin went to his bed that evening feeling somewhat hollow inside. Rowena was still so distant all of the time, and he found himself thinking about her more and more.

He wasn't sure why he was so intent on making her choose a silly name for the school, but it seemed important somehow. She had holed herself away all her life, she longed for a new sense of freedom, the eagle she had chosen to represent herself on the school crest was proof of that. But whenever offered this freedom, she still acted so reserved. She had been forced to act so her entire life, the visit to the grave and the sight of the old woman had brought it rushing all backwards. But, sometimes, just sometimes he caught a glimpse of the woman she was underneath whenever he saw the fire in her eyes or heard the teasing tone of her voice. Yes, there was hope for her.

And himself? He found himself increasingly thinking back to his time in Camelot until the guilt seemed to overwhelm him. How could he tell her these things, yet still conceal so great a part of his life from her? He lived with the pain of what had happened back then every day of his life. His failure to protect Arthur, his failure to keep the Old Religion strong in the years afterward and his failure to keep the peace between non-magical and magical peoples. The guilt was almost crushing. He realised he needed this school just as much as the Founders did. It was almost his salvation.

He felt incredibly lonely all of a sudden. Yes, he had these friends, but they did not know the real him. And they never would, not until the day that the Old Religion returned to its former glory, if that day even occurred this century.

He pulled an old figurine out of the bag he had brought with him for the first time in several months. It was the carved figurine of a dragon his father had given him all those years ago. Could he talk to Kilgharrah?

He always shied away from the idea. Kilgharrah's presence was always more sorrowful than comforting. The way he spoke, the riddles he gave … he knew the pain in Merlin's heart and tried to comfort him, tell him it wasn't his fault Arthur died. But Merlin knew it was, and that oversized lizard would never convince him otherwise.

No, all Kilgharrah did was remind him of the days that were now so far away Merlin sometimes wondered if they had all been a dream. He would try to talk him around, but it would not work. Despite being one of the only two living creatures in the world who knew Merlin's true identity, Merlin didn't want him here. He didn't want to be reminded of who he was. He didn't want to be that man anymore, the one who had made all those mistakes. He had a job to do, this was his curse, and he wouldn't rest until it was completed. Perhaps then he could finally find the peace that Merlin knew would never come in this lifetime.

The despair crept into his heart in a way it had not for several decades. He hoped to any god that was out there that these four Founders were the ones who would end this eternity of self-torture.

He didn't think he could withstand another three centuries of this overwhelming guilt and grief.

A/N: Since this was a shorter chapter I'll probably upload another one tomorrow :)