The Seelie Court finally made its appearance. A line of white horses swept into the courtyard, their hooves floating over the ground, their eyes as blue as the summer sky. Atop saddles made of bark, twigs and flowering vines, elven knights peered down haughtily, elegant in their leafy armor. After the knights came, the standard-bearers, satyrs and dwarfs bearing the colors of the Summer Court. Then, finally, an elegant carriage pulled up, wreathed in thorns and rosebushes and flanked by two grim-faced trolls who growled and bared their fangs at the crowds of Winter fey. Tiaothin sniffed. "They're being highly paranoid this year," she muttered, as a troll took a swat at a goblin that edged too close. "Wonder who the high-and-mighty noble is, to warrant such security measures?"

The carriage rolled to a stop, the doors were opened and King Oberon, Lord of the Seelie Court, stepped out into the snow. The Unseelie fey gasped and snarled, backing away from the carriage, as the Erlking swept his impassive gaze over the crowd. Oberon looked as imposing as ever: slender, ancient and powerful, his silver hair falling to his waist and his eyes like pale leaves. He wore robes the color of the forest, brown and gold and green, and an antlered crown rested on his brow.

Tiaothin gaped, flattening her ears. "Oberon?" she snarled, as the Erlkings gaze swept the crowd, searching meticulously. "Whats Lord Pointy Ears doing here?"

Oberon's piercing stare finally found Isiea. His eyes narrowed. Oberon had sent Puck to bring her back, and he'd helped them instead. After their rebellion and direct disobedience, the Seelie king was probably none too happy with either of them.



"Good point. So...just wanna head in a different direction or what, then?"

" fine. Let's head in a different direction. "

She glances at him for a moment, then looks away disinterestedly.

He nodded. "You wanna choose which way we go?"




"Lord Oberon," Mab said in a neutral voice, but it was clear that she, too, was surprised to see her ancient rival. "This is a surprise. To what do we owe the honor of your visit?" Oberon approached the throne, flanked by his two troll bodyguards. The crowd of Unseelie fey parted quickly before him until he stood before the throne. "Lady Mab," the Erlking said, his powerful voice echoing over the courtyard, "I have come to request the return of my daughter, Vivian Chase, to the Seelie Court."

Oberon gestured at the carriage, and the trolls reached inside, dragging out two pale Winter sidhe, their arms bound behind their backs with living, writhing vines. "I have brought an exchange, as the rules dictate," Oberon continued, as the trolls pushed the prisoners forward. "I will return to you your own, in exchange for my subject's freedom--"

Mab interrupted. "I'm afraid you misunderstand, Lord Oberon," she rasped with the faintest of smiles. "Your subject is not a prisoner of the Unseelie, but a willing guest. She came to us on her own, after making a bargain with my son to do so. The girl is bound by her contract to Prince Ash, and you have no power to demand her return. Once a bargain is made, it must be honored by all."

Oberon stiffened, then slowly turned to Isiea again. "Is this true?"

She nods, her expression neutral.

" fine. " She looked around, then began walking north. Or what she thought was north. She didn't really have a compass to tell her.

The Erlking shook his head. "Then, I cannot help you. Foolish girl. You have doomed yourself to your fate. So be it." He turned from her, a deserting gesture that spoke louder than any words. "My subject has made her choice," he announced. "Let us be done with this."
The Erlking didnt look at Isiea a second time as he reached the carriage and gestured to his trolls. One of them shoved the Unseelie prisoners back into the carriage, while the other opened the opposite door with a grunt. A tall, regal faery stepped out into the snow. Despite her size, she looked so delicate it seemed she would break at the slightest puff of air. Her limbs were bundles of twigs, held together with woven grass. Fragile white buds grew from her scalp instead of hair. A magnificent mantle covered her shoulders, made of every flower under the sun: lilies, roses, tulips, daffodils, and plants there wasn't a name for. Bees and butterflies flitted around her, and the smell of roses was suddenly overpowering. She stepped forward, and the hoards of Winter fey leaped back at her approach, as if she had a disease. However, it wasnt the flower woman all eyes were trained on, but what she held in her hands.

It was a scepter, like kings and queens used to carry, only this one wasn't just some decorated rod. It pulsed with a soft amber glow, as if sunlight clung to the living wood, melting the snow and ice where it touched. The long handle was wrapped in vines, and the carved head of the scepter continuously sprouted flowers, buds, and tiny plants. It left a trail of leaves and petals where the lady passed, and the Winter fey kept their distance, growling and hissing.




Well, in the Wyldwood, some things were changing constantly. Puck walked next to her

That definitely didn't help. She glanced over at Puck.

He noticed. "You doing okay?"

" I don't know. Probably. "