Robin struggled to ignore the strange conversation between him and Grimalkin, forcing himself to think of other things. Where he had taken his time enjoying the scenery, he now sped up his pace and kept his head down as a strange weight pushed on his shoulders. He stopped walking only for sleep and meals, and made sure to do the exercises Aster had assigned to him. Whether it be reading and writing, or keeping his strength up, he went through the routines every morning.

Several days later, Puck struggled to find his way. "Where the hell am I supposed to go?" he asked aloud. "They didn't give me much to go on. What, do they want me to 'fly to the second star to the right and straight on till morning?' Christ."

As he prepared to continue his one-sided rant, a breeze floated passed his nose, bringing with it the smell of blood. The internal conversation ceased as Puck raised his head to sniff the air. The wind smelled like copper or metal. A slow, triumphant smile spread across his lips as he realized the true source of the smell. A breathless whisper escaped him. "Iron."

And then he ran, allowing the smell of Iron to guide him, sometimes doubling back to follow the scent. The wind tossed the aroma around, disorienting him, but soon Robin came close enough to follow the Iron based on the burning of his skin. His lungs became inflamed and his vision blurred as his eyes watered, but Puck pressed on. The air he breathed singed his throat and nose, and sickness bloomed in his stomach. Heat licked at his face as Robin forced his way towards the Iron Realm, and the greenery around him thinned until he stood on the edge of a desert, poisonous dust clinging to his leather boots. Faint silver lines on the horizon were the only trees, and gray tufts of plant grew from between the cracks in the hardened, dried-out ground.

Puck's throat felt dry and his lungs cried for air from his sprint through the woods, but as he gasped for breath the Iron atmosphere did more harm than good. His stomach churned and he resisted the urge to curl up into the fetal position and lie upon the ground, forcing his eyes open to look at the scene, to try to find signs of life or help. Out in the distance, a moving object made heat waves ripple through the air. Robin raised a weak hand and waved, willing himself to shout. "Hey!" he called. "Over here!"

The object stopped moving, then turned and raced towards Puck. Maybe this is a bad idea, he thought, but he didn't have the strength to run. As the object came closer, the ground beneath Robin's feet began to rumble, the dust bouncing an inch off the ground as the mysterious entity approached. It's form became distinct, revealing itself to be a military vehicle, tan camouflage painted on its sides. Puck's knees went weak, and he slipped to the ground, darkness creeping at the corners of his vision.

The vehicle stopped next to him and soldiers leaped out of the doors, all running towards him with faces blurred by Puck's failing sight. Robin fell, and strong hands gripped him as the breath left his body.


When Robin woke up, his stomach flipped over. He rolled on his side and vomited, his eyes closed as he heard chunky slopping sounds hit a smooth floor. Delightful, Puck thought. He opened his eyes and jerked a hand to his face against the bright light. His limbs felt like they moved through water, and Robin felt like he was going to throw up again. He did.

"Are you finished?" came an amused voice from across the room.

Puck didn't reply at once, too busy emptying the contents of his stomach. When he relaxed, Robin felt hot, and his nose burned as he sniffed the remnants of his last meal. He sat up in his bed and wiped his chin with his sleeve. "Where am I?" Blinking his eyes open, Puck looked towards the sound of the voice and his jaw dropped. "Ash?"

The Winter Prince smirked. "Goodfellow." Ash wore clothes similar to his usual Winter royal outfit, but they wore the colors of the Iron Kingdom, silver and gray.

Puck looked at Ash, then he looked at his pile of vomit, then he looked at Ash again. "What's going on?"

"We brought you into the Iron Kingdom. When you passed out in the desert, we carried you through one of the side passages into the Summer wing." Robin frowned, and Ash continued to explain. "It's the part of the court reserved for visiting Seelie fey. We use it for Elysium, and other events like that. There's a Winter one as well."

"That's...okay. Yes. Dandy. Fantastic. So, why did you ask me here again?" Puck threw his sheets off and stood from the bed, his uneasy stomach forcing him to move slowly.

"I wanted to meet you, and explain everything in person." Ash watched as Robin toddled to the wardrobe at the far wall, opening the doors and finding a clean set of clothes. "There's a lot I haven't mentioned in my letters, and I felt it was better for you to see it all than have me tell you in writing."

"Oh, but you couldn't tell me that before you sent me the invitation, no. You had to be all weird and mysterious, didn't you? Shithead." Puck took the clothes from the wardrobe and pressed them to his skin, seeing how each shirt and trousers fit. Robin looked up at Ash and frowned. "Do these pants make me look fat?" he asked.

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

Puck looked the prince up and down. "No," he said at last. "I don't think I want to take fashion advice from Mr. Tall, Dark and Broody."

Robin could have sworn he saw Ash's eye twitch. "I'll let you clean up." Ash cleared his throat. "When you're ready to meet me, someone will be waiting for you outside the door."

As Ash shut the door behind him, Puck took a look around his room. A massive skylight made up the ceiling, letting golden sunlight filter in through the glass. Plants decorated the room, sitting on tables, hanging from the ceiling, and growing on the wall. Distant birdsong echoed from an unknown source, and pale marble walls and floors shone in the light. The furniture consisted of a table and chairs, a wardrobe, a desk, and the bed Robin had woken up in. Cream, green and gold made up the palette of the décor, and it looked for all the world like Oberon's bedroom.

It occurred to Robin that some people would be curious about how he knew what the Erlking's bedroom looking like. "Let's not take that trip down memory lane just now, brain," the trickster muttered, running a hand through his hair. He changed clothes, and found his boots sitting at the edge of his bed. His dagger sat on the desk, freshly sharpened. Puck slid the weapon into his boot and made for the door.

As soon as he went within arms reach of the doorknob, a servant opened the door, startling the trickster. "Are you ready, my lord?"

Robin blinked, then swallowed. "Take me to your leader, then." The joke helped him relax, but not by much. The hallways the pair traveled in looked as Summer themed as Puck's bedroom, with pale walls complemented by green or gold decor. Random animals skittered along the walls and floors. Far away music filtered in through closed windows that looked out into a forest. The faint smell of the outdoors wafted up Robin's nose, smelling of dirt and plants and exotic flowers.

A thousand questions and witty remarks stood on the tip of Puck's tongue, but he held them back. The uncertainty of his situation and the nagging anxiety that hummed in his blood kept him silent. Soon he and the servant arrived at a small sitting room, with a fireplace in the corner of the room that crackled with a cool, golden flame. Ash sat in one of the chairs facing the doorway, and he smiled at Robin's entrance. The servant bowed and excused himself, and Puck took a seat across from Ash, his back facing the door. "It's good to see you, Goodfellow," Ash said.

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," Robin quipped, forcing a grin. Nervous fingers twitched as he ached for his dagger.

"I never thought I'd say a lot of things." The smile melted from Ash's lips. "Goodfellow, I..."

"You missed me?" Puck had meant it as a joke, but he saw the prince stiffen.

"...Yes." A brief, heavy silence fell over the pair. "You can't imagine how disturbing this is for me."

The trickster snorted. "You think it's easy on me, ice-boy?"

"Puck, the last time I saw you, you were in stasis with the dryads, pale and lifeless. Now, you're sitting in front of me, and it's like nothing's changed. Like four years haven't gone by, with me blaming myself every day for your death."

Robin swallowed, the mirth draining from his eyes. "I thought you would have been happy I died."

"So did I. I tried to be, for a time. I told myself I had hated you, resented you. I told myself you killed Ariella. But I realised, then, that if you died I lost the only other friend I had. I was alone. It's one thing to tell yourself you're alone, and to feed off that self-induced bitterness, and another thing to realise you have no one in the world who cares if you live or die."

"You had Meghan." Puck felt a stab of pain in his chest. "You can't say you were alone."

"You're right. I had her. And she is how I became the man I am now. Your death pushed me to express how I felt about her, to protect her and love her. And I don't regret it."

Robin's throat felt dry."Of course you don't. I died, and you got the girl, the kingdom and the mortal soul. Of course you wouldn't regret that. But answer me this, ice-boy," he whispered, an uncharacteristic intensity gleaming in his eyes, "Where does that leave me? You're one to talk about loneliness, prince. You've never known the meaning of the word.

"Hey, let's talk about Ariella, shall we? You don't think I didn't blame myself for her death? Every day. Every hour, I hated myself.I hated myself because I had gotten her killed. The person I was, a stupid, reckless faery, had brought her to her death. It wasn't a battle we were fighting together, it wasn't a surprise attack, it was her trying to fix my idiocy. I had no one to blame but myself, and it killed me. You know that feeling you had, knowing no one in the world cared if you lived or died? I lived with that for years.

"And now what?" Puck's began to shout. "Now you've won. You took the girl I loved, you've become Prince Consort to a race of fey no one believed could exist, and you got to move on. You got to keep going, to deal with everything, to overcome old wounds and hatreds and to have some goddamn personal growth, while I sat dead in a tree. You have no idea what it's like to be alone, ice-boy. No fucking idea."

Ash watched the trickster grow angrier, his hands clenching into fists over the ends of his chair, and his eyes gleaming with pain and rage. "So now you see my predicament," the prince murmured. "I've had four years to turn the tables on you and become a different person, while you are a virtual ghost of the past. It's like looking back in time, and I don't know what I can do to help you."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Robin's throat felt tight and heat rose behind his eyes. "It is a fey's worst nightmare to be forgotten, and everything I know has changed, and everyone I care about has moved on. What am I supposed to do in a world that's left me behind?"

Ash opened his mouth to speak, but he spied something behind Puck and his eyes went wide. The Winter fey came to his feet and outstretched a hand to the unknown entity. "Meghan, what is it?"

Dead silence hovered in the room. "Robbie?" came a small, painfully familiar voice. Robin felt his heart race as he started to sweat, and he turned around to see Meghan watching him with wide eyes.

Puck's voice came out in a whisper. "Meghan."