Fiona flashed into existence in the shadowed clearing where Bella and Riordan were waiting. Her cousin's face was blank as she grabbed their arms and winnowed the trio away without a word.

They reappeared in the abandoned kitchen beneath the Forest House, the stone floors cold without the roaring hearthfire Fiona was so used to. Bella ducked her wings low against the ceiling and took up a position against the same counter Fiona had stolen her knife from. It felt like half a lifetime had passed since then, when her biggest concerns were blankets and kitchen knives and Aidan.

"Pray tell, Fiona," Dan wrinkled his nose at the state of the kitchen. "Why are we in the Forest House again?"

"Because if Eris did set a trap, the last place he'll be looking for us is his own home." Fiona explained. Then a smile ghosted her lips. "And also because I set fire to the Oak, and I want to hear his reaction."

Dan spluttered a cough but Bella seemed to ease at that, grabbing an apple from a nearby cupboard and tossing it in the air. "So how did it go?"

Fiona let out a long breath, allowing her shoulders to slump as she decompressed. "It was...odd." Sitting in front of Eris had been like sitting in front of a ghost – she couldn't get Elain's prophecy out of her mind, and kept picturing her father as a dead man with his jilted crown, surrounded by the wreckage of the Oak Hall. She shook her head to clear it of the image. "Although, I know he told the truth – he had nothing to do with the Autumn Court's presence in Velaris."

Bella nodded. "So, will he lend his soldiers?"

"Yes, but on one condition." Fiona looked up at her friend from beneath her lashes. "He wants me to take the place of his heir – legitimately."

A sigh sounded from one side of the room. Dan's eyes clouded over, as though he could already see all the cards on the table. Bella shot him a confused glance. "Ok, so you take his troops and his crown," she looked back to Fiona, frowning. "It's a double win, no?"

The Autumn bastards shook their heads. "It's not that simple."

"If Fiona is legitimized, she loses everything," Riordan explained. "No trips to Velaris, no freedom, no escape from courtiers. It would mean she has to fully commit to the Autumn Court, to live here and train to take Eris' place."

Bella's brows knitted together. "Can't you just do what you like until he croaks one day?"

"Not by a long shot." Fiona shook her head. "And even if I could, Elain's prophecy makes me think that day will be sooner than we'd imagine. Both Eris' life and Keir's victory hang in the balance of whoever takes his crown – we can't beat Keir without the Autumn Court."

"But why?" Riordan whined. "Surely we could find support from somewhere else, why Autumn?"

"I don't know, Dan," Fiona snapped. "Elain didn't exactly give me a set of instructions."

Bella sighed between them. "She's probably right. With the Spring, Winter and Dawn Courts being uncooperative, we're running out of allies. Eris' soldiers would make all the difference."

Fiona nodded, seeming to draw in on herself as she folded her arms. "So there's only one option."

"But Fiona, what about you?" Bella dropped the apple she'd been toying with and closed the distance between them. She pulled her friend's hands out from the knot they'd formed around her chest, clutching her fingers tightly. "What about us, what about your freedom?" She asked, her silver eyes shining. "What about Xander?"

Fiona slipped out of her grip and turned away, unable to bear the look in her eyes or the sound of his name. "Well...exactly," she muttered. "This is about him as much as it is about me. If we can't defeat Keir, if something happens to him, then who takes the Night Court? Nyx?" She practically spat the name. "The only thing keeping Keir from the rest of Prythian is the High Lord. We can't risk losing Xander." Her words were decisive, though they wobbled on her lips.

Bella's expression was too close to pity, and too bright to look at. Fiona focused instead on Riordan, whose look of quiet suffering mirrored the turmoil in her heart.

"But Fiona, if you take Autumn then you lose him too." Dan's eyes shone like melted gold in the dark, his upturned brows twitching above them. "Do you have any idea how painful it is to reject the mating bond?" 

His words were almost too quiet to hear in the still, stagnant kitchen. They still hit Fiona like a charging bull.

She turned away from him, from both of her friends. Their eyes of silver and gold were like spotlights in the darkness. "No one said anything about mates." She whispered, the effect somewhat ruined by her trembling hands. Behind her, Bella and Dan exchanged a look charged with sympathy.

"He would do it for you," Bella said solemnly. "He would bear it, if that's what you wanted."

She whirled around, hazel eyes incredulous. "Of course it's not what I want!" she cried. "I've spent my whole life trying to escape this wretched house. I don't want this court, I don't want this family – I want yours!" she told Belladonna, her voice breaking. Instinctively the Illyrian reached out, but Fiona stepped out of reach.

"If I do this..." Her voice shook and she took a deep breath of the cold, stale air. "If I do this, it's for Xander. It's his crown hanging in the balance, Velaris hanging in the balance...it's for all of you." Her sob echoed softly against the stone. The trio sat in silence, heavy like a blanket upon their shoulders, pulling them down to the ground. It was Bella who broke it.

"And what about Spring?"

Fiona sniffed angrily, wiping a tear. "What about Spring?" she echoed bitterly.

Bella shifted against the counter, folding her arms. "Mor isn't likely to have another heir. Scratch that- it's impossible for her to have another heir." she pointed out. 

Fiona shook her head fervently, refusing to add another variable to the pile. "That's not my problem. She's made it perfectly clear that I'm nothing to her – not her daughter, and especially not her heir. The succession of the Spring Court is Morrigan's problem."

Bella looked as though she wanted to say more, but thought the better of it. So Fiona sniffed a little violently and pushed away from the wall. "Come on." She extended her hands to the pair of them. "We need to get back."

*

Her eyes were still rimmed with red when they arrived. Though she had intended to do the trip in jumps, when Fiona looked up they were already standing in the mud-soaked war camp, watching the first light of dawn peak over the mountains. They'd managed to cross half of Prythian in one leap - she made a mental note to winnow while angry more often.

A head of black curls formed a familiar figure across the walkway; though the great wings looming at his back were still very unfamiliar. Xander turned as though sensing their arrival, and their eyes met for a split second before Fiona stomped off in the opposite direction.

Fiona.

She wasn't sure whether he'd said it outloud or in her mind. Either way she shook her head, hearing the squelch of boots in the mud as he approached Bella instead.

"What happened?"

"Eris gave her an ultimatum. He'll only give his support if Fiona is legitimize-"

"Bella!" Fiona whipped around, teeth bared. Her friend's grey eyes were set like stone. "You need to discuss this together," Bella insisted, folding her arms. "You can't just decide to martyr yourself."

Fiona felt a growl rumble in her throat. She caught Xander's gaze, and saw the countdown in it, the warning bell.

She winnowed half a second before he did.

The canvas fabric of her tent materialised around her. Fiona breathed a sigh as her chest began to ease – then, not a moment later, she caught a glimpse of a leather sleeve and was gone again.

The war council tent appeared in view, along with a scowling Bella who was stood with her hands on her hips. Xander's purple haze flashed again just as Fiona flinched out of sight.

"Oh- real mature guys!" Bella called after them. She stalked over to Riordan, her silver eyes molten. "Future High Lord and Lady - chasing each other around the camp like children."

"You know, there are three courts between those two." Dan mused, laughing at the absurdity of it all. "Half of Prythian is playing tag in the woods right now." Bella gave a frustrated growl that sounded something like 'We're all doomed', before they too stormed off.

*

Fiona's head began to spin as the tall silhouettes of the pine trees shot up around her. Xander would find her again, of course, but at least here she would have a moment to breathe. Her magic was beginning to thin – transporting three people across three courts on very little sleep wasn't exactly something she was used to.

The slightest crunch of pine needles was the only warning she received, and even then Fiona was too slow. She'd hardly managed to twist an inch before Xander was there, one hand pinning her wrist to her back, the other sliding across her waist, his grip vice-like in its firmness.

"Xander-" she wrestled, trying to wriggle away. She was still panting. "I-"

"Slow down," he hushed her, the whisper of his breath enough to make her shiver. A quiet grunt slipped out of her as she tried again, pushing back against him as a red haze formed around them both.

Xander's chuckle vibrated down her neck. "Don't you remember our training? You're just going to take me with you."

The haze diffused in the air as she gave up, leaning into him a little to steady herself, her breath finally slowing. When the forest around them was quiet but for the sound of birds and the distant rushing of water, he let go. But now Fiona wasn't sure if she could face him. She didn't know how to have this conversation while looking him in the eyes, not just seeing but feeling every emotion that wracked him pooling in her gut.

"We don't have to talk about it now."

Fiona's laugh was breathless. "No, you're right. We should let a few more temples burn." Her words formed puffs of steam in the thin mountain air. "That'll help me make up my mind."

Xander was quiet. Surrounded by alpine woodland, the world seemed to slow around them; death, legacies and war felt so very far away.

"What do you want to do?"

She hung her head, gazing out at the harsh Illyrian country beneath them.

"I won't force you - either way. I'm on your side whatever you choose." Xander's voice was closer, caressing her ear. She always felt they fit together best that way - him standing behind her, bracing her, the pair of them facing the world as one.

Finally, Fiona turned around. To her surprise, Xander did not look as miserable as she felt, and did not regard her with that piteous sympathy the way their cousins had. He was smiling at her. Just the sight of it made her chest ache.

She should have rejected the bond, right then and there. Should probably have done it before she even got back to camp, to spare them both the heartbreak. The voice she knew was Eris' told her so - that ultimately, this was a simple choice. What could possibly be more important than saving Prythian from Keir? No love was worth those lives, she told herself. 

Even as she looked at him, even as the word -mate- clanged through her head like a great brass bell. It felt traitorous to want him now - only yesterday she'd relished his touch, savoured the sound of his heartbeats like a sacred hymn. Now all of it felt selfish, and cruel, as though every waft of cedar and black orchid were a taunt from fate Herself.

"I need space," Fiona finally said. "I know we don't have time, and I know it's wildly inconvenient, but I need to be alone to think this through." She turned to Xander, eyes pleading. "Give me two days."

"Of course," he acceded. "Where do you want to go?"

*

Athelwood presided over miles of undisturbed countryside from the edge of a sprawling forest, positively teeming with life. Bumps and hollows housed clumps of overgrown bracken, the undergrowth reclaiming a land that had not been tread for centuries. Fiona's pointed ears caught the thumping of rabbits in their burrows, the curious clicking of birds perched on branches - creatures that had not yet learnt to fear the fae.

The manor itself seemed to emerge out of the mist rather suddenly, as though it had been making up its mind over whether to appear at all. Cassian and Azriel halted before the grand, rusted spires at the gate, gazing at the home with the same expression of awe and apprehension as Fiona.

Cassian let out a low whistle. "It must be at least two hundred years since I've been here."

Azriel was picking at the ivy growing over the door. "Since anybody's been here," he corrected him.

"Did you come here often?" Fiona asked, receiving her answer in the shake of Cassian's head.

"Mor never allowed anyone. Never even told us about the place for years," he told her. "I only came once - the night before she left for Spring."

Fiona looked up at the pile of moss-splattered stone and shuttered windows, trying to decide if it was imposing or not. "It'll do," she announced, walking over to the great oak doors. 

"We'll take our leave then," Cassian smiled, and she didn't miss the hint of sympathy behind it. It seemed everyone in camp had already heard about her ultimatum - Fiona only hoped word didn't get out about her hideaway too.

"You can come back whenever you feel like it." Azriel reminded her. "Otherwise, Xander will return in two days time."

Fiona thanked them, and then the Illyrians took to the skies, leaving her alone with the creatures of the forest and that quiet, inquisitive house. Though it seemed a little forlorn from the outside, she was delighted to find upon her entry that the interior had been charmed quite effectively; there was not a speck of dust in the whole manor, and as she walked through, exploring the rooms, the fireplaces lit themselves, bursting into merry, crackling pockets of warmth.

The manor was sparsely decorated, but the cherrywood floorboards and high-ceilings did not suffer from the lack of personal touch. By contrast, the open spaces felt inviting, and there was an air of eagerness about the place - as though the home was just as curious about Fiona as she was about it.

And her optimism only increased when she discovered the stables round the back of the house. A dozen gorgeous mares nickered softly in their stalls, watching her with bright eyes from beneath their lashes. Fiona picked a beautiful black filly, leading her toward the tack and saddles as she admired her coat, gleaming in the dappled sunlight. 

It wasn't long before both horse and fae were cantering happily through the woods, keeping an eye out for berry bushes and the flash of pelt in the undergrowth. Though Fiona had no real skill with a bow, the game was almost too easy to find - her horse practically tripped over a hare, plump from the bounty of Spring, and far too curious for its own good.

There was already a fire crackling on the stove when she returned, and from somewhere up above she heard the running of water, astonished to discover a bath running itself on the second floor. 

Allowing herself a smile, Fiona gave the doorframe a solid pat. "Thanks," she laughed, a little embarrassed to be speaking to a house. 

After dining on a delightful rabbit stew, Fiona headed straight to the wine cellar, dreaming of relieving her aching muscles and lowering herself into the bath with a glass in hand. She made an effort to uncover the fanciest bottle she could find. Blowing a little dust off the cask, Fiona turned the bottle in hand, admiring the seal and fancy scrawl across the label. 

"Well, it's a shame to have a bitch for a mother," she muttered. "But at least she has good taste."

Minutes later, steam was curling around her toes and dampening strands of her hair as Fiona tipped her head back against the lip of the bath with a contented sigh. How far the little bastard from the Autumn Court has come, she thought to herself, managing a smug smile. With a flick of her wrist, she lit a cluster of candles in the corner of the room, wondering if being High Lady of Autumn might feel something like this - only with triple the backstabbing arsewipes, and thousands more conniving cousins.

And then there was the matter of the people - her people. The Scillas and Bethans of the world. The beggars lining the streets of towns that should have been under Eris' protection, should have benefitted from his grace and wealth, as all subjects should from their Lords. 

Fiona tipped her wine slowly around the glass as her father's words echoed in her head.

You have greatness in you, you've proven that on your own.

She wasn't blind to the higher duty Eris had spoken of. Her heart might have been in Velaris, with those refugees, but she knew there were countless others who needed her help, and needed it now. Not to mention that small, child-like part of her that cried out in joy at the idea of standing by her father's side - this time as his daughter. Of facing their wicked family together and bringing about a new age for Autumn.

She took another sip and let the wine coat her tongue with a smooth film. Everything seemed to point to the same answer -to Fiona taking her birthright, and accepting the mantle of heir to the Autumn Court.

There was just the small matter of Xander. That tiny, insignificant matter of the bond, and the destined mate waiting quietly on the other end.

Her eyelids began to flutter closed as her mind warred against itself, trying to convince her that the only practical thing to do was to reject him...all while the memory of his touch crept over her skin. While his crooked smile burrowed into her breast, and his lyrical, lilting voice caressed her ear.

Fiona sank lower into the bathwater with a sigh. "Somewhere, Fate is laughing."