Autumn was when Kevin's mother visited him; the seasons had turned to favor her once again. They met in the forest, the hem of her ice blue gown trailing over the red and gold leaves dotting the ground, and she coached him on what gifts he was to accept, refuse, or offer.

"There must always be a balance of what you give and receive from the bargainer," she told him, her bright green eyes, much like his own, glinting with an inhuman light. "I know your father has raised to recognize mortal ideas, taught you the supposed worth of mercy and generosity, but we are Sidhe. The mercy we give was not the kind that mortals desire."

Even at a young age, Kevin knew what to say to impress his mother, the Winter Queen. "All the more reason to offer it to them, isn't it?"

Mab's eyes did not change, remaining as icy and remote as ever. But her lips, the color of frozen mulberries, twisted into the slightest of smiles. "You learn quickly."


All his life, Kevin had been practicing deception. As one of the Fae, it was an ingrained part of his personality. And even that part of him wasn't entirely reliable when it came to predicting his actions; after all, while his father was immortal, he was not faerie and had instead raised Kevin in mortal society, in accordance to mortal customs. Even in blood, Kevin was of dual nature, the Sidhe part of him at war with the part that had grown to value mortals.

All the better for him. The Sidhe found mortals amusing and foolish, mainly considering them fodder for deals and trickery—often both. But Kevin knew human customs along with the ways of the Fae, thus giving him an advantage over both groups.

In mortal legend, the Fae were said to be fickle, their affections and attitudes changing with the wind, their hearts callous and capricious. But as a child of two worlds, Kevin would say it was the mortals themselves who proved to be the unreliable ones. The Fae always kept their word, one way or another, and tended to alter very few of their ways throughout their lives. They remained unchanged as decades passed, while mortals lived and died and desperately scrambled to find the meaning of it all during their time in between.

With immortality on their side, the Fae saw no reason to change, to learn, or to forgive debts and grudges.


Autumn was when he first extended the promise to Betty. The school session had resumed for the year, and colorful leaves drifted down from the trees to carpet the green grass of the playground

They both were children then, in the first grade. Betty was sitting off by herself, crying, and Kevin approached her.

"What's the matter?" he asked, kneeling down beside Betty.

She sniffled. "Cheryl said I couldn't play with her and Jason. She said they only play together, not with anybody else."

She pointed toward the swing set that was currently occupied by the Blossom twins; Cheryl spotted the motion and stuck out her tongue at them.

An idea was forming in Kevin's mind even as he patted Betty on the shoulder to comfort her. The Queen had already instructed him on fooling mortals through bargains, and she told him that the ideal time for it was when mortals were despairing and desperate, ready to promise anything.

"I'll be your friend," Kevin offered, extending his hand to her. "You'll always have my guidance and protection," he said, recalling his mother's words, "as long as you'll give me yours. If you always remember our friendship, I'll be your friend forever."

"Really?" Betty wiped away her tears.

"Is it a deal?" Kevin persisted.

Betty grinned and shook his hand. "Deal!"

He told his mother the next time she visited him, and she cautioned him against becoming too close to any mortal bound to him.

"Use one hand to keep her at an arm's length and the other to grasp your blade," Mab instructed him. "Any less distance allows sentiment to interfere with perspective and, more importantly, delays the swiftness of the killing blow."


Autumn was when Kevin found himself pushed out of Betty's life, her promise to him broken.

At sixteen years old, Kevin had never cared for a mortal as much as he cared for Betty. He grew up alongside her and grew to love her.

But their friendship was moribund the moment former bad girl Veronica Lodge swept into town and instantly befriended Betty. She was a fallen princess with all of the accompanying glamor and allure, and suddenly, Betty had a new best friend. Veronica convinced her to join the River Vixens, and before Kevin could fully comprehend the change, Betty had also befriended Cheryl Blossom and begun dating Jughead Jones. Once Veronica arrived, Betty only deigned to spend a paltry amount of time with him, but her relationship with Jughead now meant that pittance had dwindled down to nothing.

He watched her with Jughead, with Veronica, with Cheryl, and remembered all that he valued of her. Her sincerity, her spirit, her courage.

She was not only kind, but genuine. When Kevin had offhandedly mentioned how little he saw his mother, she was concerned for him.

"Don't you miss her?" she asked, her blue eyes troubled. "I mean, she's a member of your family. Wouldn't you like to spend more time with her?"

As far as the ordinary citizens of Riverdale knew, Kevin's parents had never married, and his mother had given him to his father to raise, only visiting a few times a year. It actually was the truth, only omitting the crucial piece of information that Kevin's mother was Queen Mab of the Winter Court.

"Not really," Kevin said with a shrug. And it was true: his mother's presence in his life was infrequent, but she had taught Kevin all he needed to know about the Sidhe, and he loved his father too much to bother wishing for another parent.

Still, he was pleased by Betty's worry for him, as well as impressed she would be concerned rather than consider him lucky for not having a mother, given her own parents' personalities.

But Betty was courageous, refusing to be cowed by either her mother or her father. She was the one to sneak out to meet with Kevin once they got older, to disobey her mother and go swimming with him in the deeper, more dangerous parts of Sweetwater River, to lie to her mother about where they were going when they went out so they didn't have to hear lectures on why it was dangerous to explore the abandoned houses of the Southside.

Betty Cooper was adventurous, thoughtful, and generous. She was a wonderful friend, and Kevin enjoyed his time with her, binding agreement or not.

Therefore, he supposed it was only natural that Betty break their bargain.

It was a recurring issue with mortals. With their shorter lifespans, they adjusted to change much sooner than the Fae expected. Their adaptational abilities could be commended if it meant anything other than it being much easier for them to take circumstances for granted.

The situation was increasingly clear to him: Betty had reneged on her promise. He no longer had to honor their bargain. He could turn his wrath onto her for spurning him, as was his Sidhe nature, and render her existence utterly miserable.

Perhaps it was the sentimental side to him, the one that related to mortals in spite of not being one, but he didn't want to have to bring any harm to her. After all, he could plainly see from her interactions with her new friends that Betty Cooper was still the same kind and sweet girl he'd known all his life.

But she wasn't that person to him any longer, and for that, all of Kevin's affection for her was forfeit.

He was the son of the Winter Queen. He could not allow such an offense to pass unpunished.

As Betty's former best friend, he knew a variety of her secrets and her insecurities, and how they connected to others. There was her long-lasting crush on Archie, of course, and didn't Archie have a rivalry with Reggie? He could use that to his advantage, pit them against each other. And then there was Ethel Muggs, who carried a torch for Betty's boyfriend. He could very easily light a fire there. And Veronica was Betty's new best friend, but she and Cheryl had an ongoing antagonism, as did the Coopers and the Blossoms, all of whom were unaware that Jason and Polly were secretly dating.

He had a virtual deluge of information he could put into action against Betty, numerous people who he could manipulate. But whatever he did, it had to to be swift and thorough, to punish each one of the transgressions she had committed against him. He would have to time it to occur at just the right moment.

Kevin could wait. He was immortal, after all.


Autumn was when he met Joaquin.

The late afternoon sun bathed the forest in a golden-copper glow that filtered through the vibrant red, yellow, and oranges leaves on the trees, creating shafts and pools of light. It was beautiful, the picture of the a perfect fall day, which was a welcome distract for Kevin from stewing in his bitterness over Betty.

The bright day did nothing to warm the brisk waters of Sweetwater River, but he didn't mind at all, merely stripping off his clothes and diving in. He briefly allowed the current to carry him to a gentler area of the river, off to the side where the water was gentler and shallower, only reaching just past his waist. Leaning against a large, flat rock, Kevin closed his eyes and tilted his head back to enjoy the dual sensations of the sun's warmth and the water's chill. As one of the Winter Sidhe, the cold did no harm to him, instead invigorating him. Kevin was always ready for winter.

He hadn't been relaxing long, though, before he was alerted to someone else's presence.

"Whoa," a male voice breathed.

Kevin turned to find a young man maybe a few years older than him standing at the side of the river, staring openly. The stranger was good-looking, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes and was wearing a leather jacket. Kevin decided he didn't mind the intrusion one bit.

"Care to join me?" he invited. "The water's great."

"Looks cold!" The stranger exclaimed. "I don't know how you can stand it." He looked impressed, though, which satisfied Kevin. He might not have known the man, but there was an intangible quality about him that Kevin found to be very likeable, and he was instantly drawn to him.

"If the cold is such an issue, I'm sure we can warm each other up," Kevin told him suggestively.

The stranger chuckled. "I like how you're thinking, but I'm still not coming in. But I . . ." he gave Kevin an appreciative look that lingered on far longer than strictly necessary. "I'll keep on enjoying the view, if you don't mind."

"If you're not going to join me, you don't get to watch," Kevin said with a teasing smile, swimming back to where he'd left his clothes. Pulling himself out of the water, he began dressing. "If you want a show, go to the theater. We have a drive-in, you know."

"It closed down!" The stranger protested. "Besides, what's the matter with us 'warming up together' on dry land?"

"It's so mundane," Kevin said dismissively as he donned the last of his clothes. "Besides, why I should I be the one making all the exceptions for you? I could never be interested in someone who only wanted things his way all of the time." He began to walk away.

"Wait!" The stranger grabbed his arm. "I should have introduced myself. I'm Joaquin DeSantos." He extended a hand.

"How nice for you," Kevin said politely before continuing on his way.

"You never gave me your name!" Joaquin called after him. "How am I supposed to find you?"

"Come here tomorrow," Kevin replied flirtatiously. "I'll be waiting."

Sure enough, Joaquin returned the next day and the day after that, and it was the third time before Kevin finally gave him his name.

"Sheriff Keller's kid?" Joaquin asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yes. In fact, he's the man with top priority in my life," Kevin said, looking up at Joaquin. Per usual, he was in the water, and Joaquin was kneeling beside him on the grass of the river's edge. "Does that discourage you?"

Joaquin snorted. "That doesn't. You refusing to so much as grab a burger with me, however . . ."

Kevin gave him a smile. He truly enjoyed his time with Joaquin; he wasn't the typical ever so predictable mortal. "Then let's go. Right now."

When they arrived at the diner, Joaquin put his arm around Kevin's shoulders just before they walk through the door, and Kevin was surprised by how much he welcomed the gesture. But he barely had time to be taken aback by his own reaction, as he immediately spotted Betty sitting at table by the front with Jughead, Veronica, and Archie. They were talking and laughing together; it was clear Betty didn't miss him as much as he missed her.

But, Kevin realized as he walked arm in arm with Joaquin to a booth at the back, during his time with Joaquin, he hadn't given Betty so much as a passing thought.


The lack of retribution on Kevin's part for Betty's violation of their bargain was met with scorn from the queen.

"You cannot allow mortals to escape punishment for their insults to you," Mab warned him. "You haven't had the time to establish yourself as a formidable opponent. It is necessary that you do, or else you will convince others they can take an advantage for which you will never seek reprisal."

"Let them think such," Kevin said dismissively. "All the better to lure them, ensnare them into my service, and then take compensation when they fail me."

"But will the day of recompense ever pass?" Mab asked, her stare intense. "When one of my servants betrayed me, I acted swiftly to ensure his death was slow but certain. I had him bound to a tree to die slowly, not unlike your White Christ, but in a frozen garden rather than on a hill. He remained there till death had nearly claimed him. But then I healed his wounds and nursed him back to health, caring for every one of his needs, be it from sickness or lust."

Kevin paused. "You left him to die only to then spare him?"

"It is a constant cycle," Mab replied, unbothered. "I heal him, and then I return him to the tree until he is almost dead. Then I collect him and tend to him until his ailments are vanquished. Then I string him up onto the tree again. I heal him only to hurt him, and I have done so for the past three years, since the day I discovered his treason."

"How long will you keep him there?" Kevin asked quietly.

Mab's green eyes were unnaturally bright, a stark contrast against her skin and hair, both as white as the fresh winter snow. "As long as I see fit."


While the queen advocated for cruelty disguised as mercy, his father advised him to choose mercy outright. Tom Keller hadn't been alive for quite as long as Kevin's mother, but he nonetheless believed time to be the remedy to most ills.

"I know Betty hurt you," his father told him as they worked together in the garage, melting down silver to coat bullets. "But don't take it personally. It's simply the way of mortals. They never know when their lives will end, and that uncertainty causes them to behave in irrational ways. She probably panicked, wondering if her life was lacking when you were her main point of contact. It wasn't, of course, but try to convince a mortal of that. They're such self-involved creatures."

"How do you stand them?" Kevin asked tiredly. He wished he were past his anger at Betty, but old bitterness remained, bubbling up from beneath his skin at random moments and coiling around him like chains. "You've lived among them for centuries—how can you still like them?"

"I don't like them." Tom added several pieces of what was once a candelabra to the smelting pot. "I'm just used to them. Betrayals from mortals is common—they're a petty, self-centered race. But mortals themselves are even more common. I know you're upset with Betty, but she can easily be replaced. Befriend a different mortal, and it will be as if she never left you at all. No need to enact revenge or waste any time plotting against her. She's a mortal, so she'll be dead soon, anyway."

Kevin shook his head. "She was my friend for years." A part deep within him, a part he wished he could cover and hide away, ached as he spoke the words.

"Anyone can be when you'll live for centuries," Tom pointed out. "Trust me, Kevin, Betty Cooper is nothing special. I'm sure you could find someone else at a moment's notice, and that person would almost certainly be an improvement over her."

The reminder of Joaquin heartened Kevin. "I already have, I think," he said. "Joaquin DeSantos—one of your Southside Serpents."

"DeSantos?" Tom paused momentarily and then shrugged. "I suppose you could do worse for a distraction. And there, you see? You've lost one mortal, but you've found another. They're readily available." He gave Kevin a conciliatory pat on the shoulder. "Forget about what you no longer have with Betty. Just enjoy the time you do have with Joaquin."


Autumn was when Joaquin escorted him to the Homecoming dance.

Though Kevin asked Betty in one final effort to give her another chance, an opportunity to resurrect their friendship, Betty proved to be uninterested in saving herself. Going to school dances together had been a tradition they'd shared since the seventh grade, but apparently one Betty no longer wished to maintain.

"I'm going with Jughead," she said bluntly, not bothering to so much as glance at him as she stowed books away in her locker. "And we're going to Homecoming in a group with Veronica and Archie."

Serendipitously, Veronica joined them at Betty's locker just at that moment, no doubt to walk to class with Betty just like Kevin had once regularly done.

"And Homecoming is going to be so much fun!" Veronica gushed. "I absolutely cannot wait!"

So Betty had again overlooked him in favor of Veronica—that was no surprise. Heat rose in his face that Kevin told himself was from anger rather than embarrassment, and he quickly found an excuse to leave, unwilling to stay where he was not welcome.

"Well, I'll see you around," he said with a nod to the two of them. "I've got to get to the science lab."

Walking away from them, he felt more sympathy than ever toward Maleficent for cursing Sleeping Beauty when the king and queen didn't invite her to the christening.

So it was a pleasant surprise when Joaquin asked about attending the dance with him.

"A friend of mine is going to a dance at your school soon," Joaquin said as they tramped across a field strewn with leaves. The sun hung low in the sky, sending streams of golden light across the grass before them. "Her name is Toni Topaz, and the girl she's going with is Melody Valentine—you know, the drummer of that band with the mayor's daughter."

"Hope they have fun together," Kevin remarked offhandedly.

"Would you like to go?" Joaquin blurted out.

Kevin blinked. "With Melody?"

"No! I mean, yes—no, I mean with me. Go to the dance with me. And we could double date with Toni and Melody." Joaquin grinned at him, but Kevin could easily read the nervousness in his expression. "What do you think?"

An unexpected lightness overcame Kevin at Joaquin's question, and he found a smile growing on his face. Joaquin wanted him; he wanted to be with him and be seen with him. He was inviting him to the dance.

"Sure," Kevin said, happiness blooming in his chest both at the invitation and at the sight of the relief on Joaquin's face when he accepted. "I'd love to go with you."

He reached for one of Joaquin's hands and gave it a gentle squeeze, and giddiness zipped through him when Joaquin squeezed back.

On the night of the dance, Joaquin borrowed a vintage convertible from a friend to drive the four of them to the dance. It was on the way over that Kevin was introduced to Toni Topaz, an athletic and beautiful young woman with bright pink hair and sparkling dark eyes.

"We're just going as friends," Toni said in regards to herself and Melody. "We don't have the epic, sweeping romance that you and Joaquin do," she added, sending a sly look Joaquin's way.

"Can it, Topaz," Joaquin growled at her, and she laughed.

"Leave Joaquin alone, Toni," Melody chided playfully, but Kevin caught the gleam of longing in her eyes when she looked at the other girl. He surprised himself by an uncommonly unselfish wish that Melody would find happiness eventually, if not with Toni, then with someone else.

The dance passed in a blur of laughter and motion, and Kevin was half-amazed to find himself enjoying the evening. He was out with friends, and he was having fun. How long had it been since he had done something along those lines?

Still, he couldn't suppress the familiar stab of resentment that pierced his heart when he spotted Betty, looking positively angelic in an ice blue dress, dancing with Jughead without a care in the world.

Joaquin followed his gaze. "Do you know her?"

Kevin quickly looked away from Betty and focused on Joaquin, frustrated at giving himself away so easily. "I used to."

"I used to see you two all around town together," Joaquin remarked. "I had wondered if the two of you were dating, because I never saw one of you without the other."

"We were never interested in each other. We were just close friends for a while, but," he made a distinct effort to keep any bitterness from his voice, "we aren't anymore."

"I'm sorry," Joaquin said sincerely. "That really sucks."

"It's the way of the world," Kevin with a shrug. "Friends outgrow each other. She's moved on. It's just a part of life."

"Not a part of my life," Joaquin said firmly. "I don't forget the people who care about me."

"Points for loyalty, then," Kevin replied fondly.

"I mean it." Joaquin's glacier blue eyes locked onto Kevin's green ones. "I want you in my life, Kevin. I want you to be with me. Would you date me? Officially, I mean," he hastened to add. "As my boyfriend."

Sudden lightness flooded through Kevin at the question, and a smile spread across his face. "Nothing could make me happier," he said, and he was taken aback when he realized the truth to his statement.

Joaquin's evident affection for him abruptly pushed Kevin's previous anger at Betty far away, making it seem distant and irrelevant. It was then that for the first time he could so much as imagine himself overcoming his resentment toward her. Would he be able to do as his father suggested and simply forget about Betty? Did he truly have the capacity to forgive her without taking any kind of revenge?

Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. But that night, when he was slow dancing with Joaquin, anything seemed possible.


And it was one dreary autumn night when Jughead Jones appeared on the Keller doorstep, panicked and distraught, ready to bargain his life away as long as it meant helping Betty.

Rain hammered down onto the roof, and Kevin had already started a fire in the stone fireplace so his father could warm up when he arrived home. He was going through the last few preparations for dinner—a hearty stew and freshly baked rolls, along with the beer he'd put on ice so he could greet his father with a cold one at the door. He had just finished brewing the decaf coffee when the doorbell rang.

Kevin frowned slightly as he walked to the foyer, wondering who the caller could be. He wasn't expecting anyone, and as miserable as the weather was, it wasn't exactly an ideal night for social visits.

Summoning his magic to the ready in case he needed to defend his home, Kevin flung open the door to find Jughead there, his clothing absolutely soaked. Given that the two of them weren't close, his presence caught Kevin off-guard. Betty had already replaced Kevin with Veronica before she'd begun dating Jughead, and as such, Kevin hadn't any reason to start a rapport with Betty's boyfriend.

"What are you—" he began, but Jughead cut him off.

"It's Betty," Jughead said, his eyes wide and frantic. "Something's happened—something terrible—"

"Oh?" Kevin inquired disinterestedly.

"Yeah." Jughead swallowed. "I need your help. Please, it's really important!"

"Is it?" Kevin let a smile curve across his lips. He remembered what his mother had told him about mortals. Wait till they're desperate, till they'll promise you anything.

Perhaps there was something to be said about showing mercy, after all. Kevin's mind briefly flashed to what his mother said, about keeping her treasonous servant on a tree and then healing him only to torture him further.

It was time, he decided, to acquire reparations from the traitor in his own life.

Kevin laid a comforting hand on Jughead's shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll help you, and I'll help Betty. But first, will you make me a promise?"