I have found friends in a neutral court that have asked me to stay for a season or two, to help and to heal. My hands are far from tied, my son, and should you need me, I will be by your side in an instant. Please, be careful. You and I both know the savagery of Autumn. Do not let it cheapen your character, dear Eris.
Stay safe and well, and may the Mother bless you.
I love you, son.
My prayers are with you.

-Mother

Arabella set down her pen and leaned back, letting the back of the chair pop her achingly tense spine.
Her hand was cramping up, stiff and protesting the many letters she had spent the morning and afternoon composing.
The inkwell was nearly dry, and she had already refilled it twice.
During her time in Autumn, Beron had refused to let her write letters out of fear and self preservation.
So it had been many many centuries since she had put pen to parchment, and her lack of practice was evident by her less than perfect handwriting and her throbbing hands.
But more than her hands and her back, Arabella's heart was heavy and aching.
Writing a letter to Eris, acknowledging that she had abandoned her boy to the wolves...
She had been selfish, to leave.
But there was a part of her, a very guilty part of her, that wanted to be selfish. 
That craved it, loved it. 
Being selfish meant being free from Beron. 
Being selfish meant ignoring the damning awareness that three of her sons were just like their cruel father.
Being selfish meant escaping the hateful stares of the people of Autumn Court.
Being selfish meant being with Helion, and living blissfully with him unaware of the terrible secrets she hid from him.
Arabella sank down into the desk chair, letters forgotten as she recalled her conversation with Helion two weeks earlier.

"So then my dear. What have you been concealing?"
Arabella shuddered in his arms.
"Helion..." her voice was merely a whisper.
His hands moved in circles over her back, soothing and steady, but he said nothing.
"I won't lie to you," she murmured.
"There are things we must discuss."
Despite her efforts, Arabella's voice still quavered with emotion and fear.
She pulled away gently, eyes downcast.
"But I need time. I... please."
Tears welled and threatened to spill down her cheeks.
She felt the gentle pressure of Helion's fingers beneath her chin, and she slowly raised her eyes to meet his.
His face was all tenderness and sadness.
"Ari, I may not understand, but you never have to ask my permission for anything."
Arabella closed her eyes as the tears finally fell, leaning into Helion's touch.
She couldn't look at him as she whispered,
"Just... I need you to trust me. I can't tell you yet, but... soon. I promise."
When she opened her eyes, his brow was softly furrowed in concern and confusion, but there was no sign of frustration or rejection on his face.
Arabella clasped his hand and held it against her sharp cheek.
"But promise me," she begged, voice trembling.
"Promise me you will forgive me."
He opened his mouth, the question written in his eyes, but she stopped him and another tear rolled down her cheek and along his hand.
"Just promise. Please."
Helion's voice was thick when he finally replied.
"I promise."

Even after that... even after he had promised...
Arabella sighed and leaned forward, elbows on the desk and fingers massaging her temples.
How could she expect Helion to keep that promise when no man could ever forgive for this?
She wasn't even sure she could keep her own promise to him. 
Everyday that passed was another day she hadn't told him. 
Another day she slept beside him in bed and denied them both the passion that burned within them. 
Another day she had to look into his beautiful eyes, and feel as though she were lying to him.
But the moment she told him... she could so easily lose him. 
Oh Mother, give me wisdom. 
Lend me strength.
An inevitable distance had grown between them in the last few days.
Not only did Helion know Arabella was keeping things from him, but he was constantly occupied with court matters. 
He talked to her at night about it, sometimes. 
She would run her fingers through his hair as he recalled the events of the day, the struggles, concerns and dilemmas he faced. 
The war against Hybern had done so much damage in such a short time. 
Helion has lost many great generals and friends in the fray, that he now had to replace. 
Amun was frantically attempting to find more crops to harvest and send as aid, while keeping their own court in good health. 
Rawer was constantly shifting and juggling funds, unsure precisely how much they could afford to sacrifice before they themselves would require aid. 
But Helion had the final say. 
His word decided what would be done, and set whatever consequences into motion.
The weight on his shoulders, the time spent apart, and the looming thought of her secrets had created such a sense of uncertainty.
How could she be there for him if she couldn't even be honest with him?
Arabella stopped working at her temples, and simply held her head in her hands.
The dying sunlight cast a red glow over the room, turning the parchment scattered with her inked apologies a faded scarlet. 
Oh how it reminded her of how the firelight would catch in her sons' hair. 
That cast of red gold.
Tears gathered and dripped down onto her lap, staining the dusty rose of her shendyt the same shade of the dying light. 
There was no dancing around the utterly desolate fact that Arabella had abandoned her children. 
Eris aside, she had not even contacted her sweet Lucien... precious Lucien...
Not since he had fled Autumn. 
For fear of Beron's wrath against her and her youngest baby, she had outwardly forgotten about him. 
Every day had been a struggle not to write him, to defy Beron and seek him out. 
Seeing him, brought low, bloodied and lost in the death grip of that Lord of Night...
Arabella had vowed to herself in that moment, that had Lucien died under the mountain, she would have gone with him. 
A silent sob wracked her body once, and more tears darkened her beautifully crafted linen garments.
What a mother she was. 
Visibly wasting away for years before her children, abandoning them for selfish freedoms, being weak and afraid and empty instead of the strong woman she should have been for them. 
Could have been.
Now, Helion could see it too. 
Even the man she had run to, left her children for... how could he love her, respect her as he once did?
She was a shadow of her past self, of the fiery young female he had fallen for. 
Humiliatingly skeletal, a shattered mess of emotion and fear, and now keeping vital news from him...
Mother above.
Arabella's weeping was no longer silent, though still strained and quiet. 
How long could she be weak and small before Helion abandoned her as she had abandoned her children?
Her bony chest heaved and her breaths came hiccuped, skipping.
Red hot pain spiked in her skull, but the tears still fell.
Doubled over, she pulled her knees up, hugging them and burying her face in her sparsely cushioned lap.
"Mother,"
"Mother, give me- give-"
Her breath gave out and she crumbled back into sobs once more.
"Mother give me strength," she finally whispered, catching her breath.
"Maiden give me courage."
Her voice shook dangerously and more tears rolled down her hot cheeks.
"Cauldron give me peace."
Cauldron give me peace.
It was almost comical. 
She had been praying to the Mother and the Cauldron for hundreds of years, and she had never known peace. 
Her strength had failed her and she had lacked every brand of courage in the face of adversity.
And still, Arabella prayed. 
Because in the end, she would never have anything else.
Not her children, not Helion, and certainly not her court. 
A court that praised the strong and preyed on the weak.
A court that had married her off to their sadistic high lord for her exceptional gifts and strong fire.
In the desk chair, she pulled her legs up, and sat there, curled into a small, undignified ball.
How could she, in good conscience, send this letter to Eris?
After leaving him so soon after Beron's death?
After he had killed his own father?
There were things about that night that Arabella had yet to disclose to Helion, along with so many of her secrets.
But now, all these things...
They amassed in her mind, screaming her faults at her, crippling her.
And it was as though she would never escape it.
The last shutter of light closed inside of her, drowning her in darkness as the voices betraying her failures became Beron's.
...
Helion leaned to his left in his seat, knuckle brushing against his lips, brow drawn down in deep thought.
In the war room, which had now become the council room, his advisors and commanders were all gathered together once more for a weekly draw up.
In the past weeks, since even before Arabella had appeared like an angel of mercy at his door, the relations with other courts had deteriorated, as had the condition of supplies.
The one good thing in all this time passing, was that they had made excellent time in clearing out the mountain pass to send healers and aid through the mountains.
The bad thing, was that aid was running extremely low.
Helion listened as Raia, his Master of War, detailed the needs of the new ranks in the militia.
The armory needed to be replenished, which would require more mining and increased costs towards smithing of armor and weapons.
More experienced soldiers, being marched out for protection and transportation of goods to other courts, marched on their stomachs, and thus required greater sustenance to continue their missions.
All tied together with Amun's previous update on the disease taking over the year's wheat crop.
"The young recruits are learning quickly, but without the materials to train them properly, we have a short window before their training becomes obsolete and stagnant."
Raia was stoic and blunt, but the stress, exhaustion and worry that everyone so keenly felt was reflected in the shadows of his face and the tenseness of his shoulders.
"We lost too many seasoned soldiers in Hybern. I have half the leaders I had before. If I cannot continue the training of the recruits properly and soon, our armies will be less than half what it was, even with equal numbers. I need to make promotions. Soon."
The room shifted uneasily, whispers and murmurs of varying levels of concern rising up in a silent wave.
Helion and all of his advisors understood that it was vital for Day to recover their military and their people within the next months.
The war with Hybern was over, but there were servants of the bastard king still staining Prythian.
Not to mention, the human queens and their new familiarity with the faerie lands.
Helion felt a tide of overwhelming stress rising up inside of him, and he desperately pushed it down.
Still, he lounged to the side.
Still, he kept himself loose and relaxed.
Any show of strength, security and peace would help his men greatly.
They looked to him.
They relied upon him.
Mother above, he was their High Lord.
This court's fate was his responsibility.
Raia paused, finished with his report, and looked at the parchment in his hands as if to find something more that would bring more food, better troops, a greater store in their treasury.
And then he sat, a disturbed expression upon his face.
It now fell on Helion to make decisions, to juggle their concerns and decide which of them was more vital.
Silence stretched taught across the room.
The golden serpent wrapped about his bicep was warm and comforting, and his brought up a hand to rub it mindlessly.
Then, Helion stood.
Looking at Amun, he said
"Employ healers and the nature faeries, and take them to the wheat fields. See what they can do about the disease. If they cannot fix it, tell them to try again. Report the results to me directly."
To Raia.
"Continue your training. Have the craftsmen craft wood and stone tools until the smiths can be hired and the metal can be acquired for more armor. Salvage broken and rent armor and have it mended. They are not going into battle. They need to know the weight of their weapons and how to handle them, but they do not need protection."
Raia's eyes darkened, but his shoulders visibly fell in relief.
"Rawer, have the traders increase communication with the human lands. They will want gems and fae jewelry. Report to me with every trade and every shipment."
A ripple of disbelief spread across the table.
His chief advisor, a female older than even him, Khemsit, stood.
"My lord, is this wise? We are verging in war with the human Queens. Trade will merely open Prythian and reveal weaknesses that they may take advantage of. I advise against this course of action."
Her dark almond eyes flashed.
The traitorous Queens had been responsible for her great grandchild's death.
Helion pitied her. He felt her anger, he knew her pain.
But he stood, and braced his hands on the dark table top, fingers stretching across the painted map from Autumn court to Night.
"I have spoken, and my decision is final. Trade with the human lands will increase our income three fold by my calculations. Some of the human queens are more willing to ally with us. Should we extend a hand, not only will we benefit, but we may just avoid a war."
He fought the growing urge to let a harsh bite creep into his words.
"We will open trade routes with the humans. This meeting is over."
He swept out of the room, brushing past the massive golden doors with ease afforded him by frustration and fury.
And Cauldron boil him if he didn't want one thing, however selfish it may be.
To be in the arms of the one who loved him, the one whom he loved.
So Helion sought out Arabella. 
...
"What is wrong?"
Helion fought a groan as Arabella dug her magic fingers into the deepest knots in his shoulders.
He huffed a laugh and let his head fall forward, hanging limply down. 
"My Court is unhappy with my decisions."
She stayed silent, kneeling behind him on his bed, kneading and pressing and unlocking his tense muscles.
He paused, and then sighed.
"I cannot blame them.  But there is no good decision, now.  I don't know what to do, Ari."
He felt her lips on the side of his neck, and his nerves lit themselves with fire and pleasure.
Helion leaned into her kiss and her touch, arching and stretching, eager to have her lips on his own. 
Arabella places her cool hands on either side of his head and turned him to face her.
Mother above she was beautiful.
Her red hair was loose, framing her face like an impossible masterpiece.
Her eyes glittered like amber beads, her cheeks pink with a soft flush.
"Kiss me," he murmured, voice embarrassingly hoarse.
But it didn't matter, with the flood of desire in his body.
In the week since they had made their promises to each other, Helion had had neither the time nor the strength to act on his physical wants for her.
Ari wasn't ready, and... well after everything, knowing that she was keeping things from him... Helion didn't know if she even wanted him like he wanted her. Or if he could, in good conscience, feel that way about her while she was lying to him.
But now... cauldron help him he was hard as a rock, his skin buzzing and tender.
Arabella's eyes met his, and all he could see was a brief sadness before she broke their gaze and dropped her eyes, hand slipping away from his face.
Something fierce gripped Helion, and he twisted to face her, pulling her close and crushing his mouth against hers.
She let out a soft noise of surprise, but melted into his kiss, opening for him.
He moaned against her lips, and internally cursed himself.
Damn him, he was the oldest high lord and this female made him want to finish just with her touch and a passionate kiss.
Helion softly ran his hands down her sides, along her leg, around to the inside of her thigh.
She whimpered, and Helion felt himself harden even more as his fingers traveled under her skirt, teasing and searching.
"Helion..."
Arabella's voice was weak against his ear, her breath warm against his skin, and he shivered.
"Lie back," he murmured.
Her body instantly obeyed, easing herself back.
Helion's blood cooled instantly when she stopped, and he glanced up at her face.
She was madly flushed, but he could see it beyond the panting and the maddening, wild scent of her arousal.
Arabella wasn't ready.
Her arms came up around her midsection, the tiny sliver of pale skin that showed under her top.
Helion bit his tongue until it bled, but nodded and smiled.
Mother above he wanted this female.
But he wanted more than anything for her to heal.
And so he would wait.
Forever if need be.
Tears welled in her eyes as Helion stood and adjusted himself awkwardly.
"I'm so sorry, Helion," she whispered, voice cracking.
Helion froze, dread and a sick feeling spreading out from his belly.
And then he was there, on his knees before the edge of the bed, hands on the tops of her still thin legs.
"Never apologize, Ari. Never."
His voice was low, and though he tried to control it, he could hear it shake.
"I would wait for you, a thousand years. More. You are so much more to me than carnal desire. I want you. I do."
His hands tightened ever so slightly on her knees and his breath was shallow.
Her arousal was still potent.
"But you, here, with me... it is more than I could have ever dreamed, Arabella. I gave up hope so long ago, that you would come back to me. And if you are never ready, if there is never a day when you can be with me this way, then I don't want it. And you should never be sorry for what you cannot do. Do you understand me?"
Helion's eyes were wide, searching, desperate for her to understand.
His voice was low and strained, and his heart aches as tears slipped down her face.
Mother, she was radiant.
And strong.
And wise, and kind, and his.
She was here and she was his.
Arabella opened her mouth, her voice a terrible tremble.
"Helion... we need to talk."