Ashara stepped forward, confusion creasing her features. "Eolande? What's that?" The elf shook her head, stepping forward and thrusting the letter at Ashara. Ashara took the crumpled parchment and unfolded it.

Ashara's eyes filled with tears as she read. George is going to the Unseelie court to ask Mab to make him fae... He will die before he makes it to Tir Na Nog. She rubbed furiously at her eyes, wiping the tears. Ashara sank to the ground, clutching the letter in her hands. A soft hand lifted her face. Eolande's rosebud lips moved, soundless in Ashara's grief.

Ashara gasped. Her chest heaved as she sobbed. A pale hand reached out. To do what, Ashara didn't know. She slapped the hand away.

"Get out!" Eolande stood, Her low, sweet voice above Ashara's head. She shook her head, refusing to listen. Another voice spoke; It was louder, and commanding before going soft.

Nearly silent footsteps made their way across the carpet. The door opened, closing after a minute. Eolande's slippered feet came into her vision. She knelt in front of ashara, her arms wrapping around her.

After a few moments Eolande stood. Ashara lifted her head, blinking. She watched as her only confidant pulled the rope in the corner of the room. A few moments later a knock came at the door. Ashara didn't look to see who it was. Eolande came back, kneeling before Ashara again

"My lady." Her voice was soft, and soothing to Ashara's bruised spirit. She is all I have left... My sweet George is gone. The queen of winter will not spare him. Ashara shivered. She wrapped her arms around herself. "Mayhap there is hope for your... George, my lady."

Ashara looked up. I said that aloud? She blushed, looking at Eolande.

"Speak plainly, Eolande." Nervousness burst in Asharas stomach in a frenzy of butterflies. Eolande smiled widely at her mistress.

"It will take him time to discover a way into Tir Na Nog, If he's able to find a way in at all. If we are able to go to him and warn him or dissuade him from seeking Mab's help then we can bring him here and you will not have to be apart." Ashara nodded, smiling.

"Yes." Ashara felt a genuine happiness build in her chest. She hugged Eolande stood, tugging Ashara with her. She settled Ashara into a chair. A knock sounded at Ashara's chamber door. Eolande walked quickly, opening it, and taking the tray from the servant.

She returned, setting the tray down on a small, ornate end table. Eolande turned to Ashara, smiling nervously.

"My lady... The queen instructed me to give you a tonic to help you sleep... You'll need you rest." Ashara scrunched her nose, frowning.

"What are you talking about?" Eolande's hands clenched the fabric of her dress.

"She didn't say, only that I was to give you the tonic, and after you'd woke, bathe you, and she'd send her handmaidens.." Ashara bit the inside of her cheek, not quite believing her handmaid. It sounds like a way to prevent me from escaping... Eolande's earnest face made her hesitate. Ashara relented. As if the person who just offered to help me escape would prevent such an event. Mayhap after whatever the queen has planned Eolande and I will be able to plan something more substantial.

Ashara took the beautiful cup from Eolande. She stared at the murky green liquid, watching it swirl as the steam rose from it. She looked back at Eolande, then looked back into the seemingly endless depths of the tea. I'm putting my trust in you... Don't let George down, because I won't.

Ashara took slow long gulps, the dark green tea scalding her mouth. After the cup was empty Ashara handed it back to her handmaid. She pressed her lips together, licking them. It's slightly salty, with a hint of honey. Ashara looked at Eolande, finding it difficult to keep her eyes open. We'll find George and he'll come home with me. Dandelion can just get over it. Ashara's eyes closed, the darkness pulling her under.

Ashara found herself standing in a garden covered in white powder. What is this? She thinks, bending down and scooping up a handful, only to shriek and toss it away.

"Cold!" Ashara looked down, and found that she stood in the cold white powder. She flexed her toes, marveling at how the powder kept whatever shape she imposed on it.

A sharp gust of wind made Ashara gasp. Gooseflesh pricked her skin. She looked up. Small pellets of Ice rain down, making Ashara flinch. All at once the wind and Ice whipped at Ashara'a back, pushing her forwards. She reached forward, grasping at nothing. Ashara raised an arm, shielding her eyes.

I need to find out where I am. She looked around. Four walls, made of the same white powder Ashara was standing in, surrounded her, one of the walls had an archway, which was carved in the shape of twisted trees coming together at the top. The wind picked up, howling in Ashara's ears.

"...Shara!" Ashara looked around, eyes wide with panic. What was that? "Who's there?" A figure came through the archway, his hand stretched out.

"George?" Ashara's stomach twisted. Her mortal pet stepped through the doorway, his face serious.

"Ashara, come out of the snow. You'll catch your death." Snow? Is that what this is? Ashara took a few hesitant steps forward. George reached out, and grabbed Ashara's hand. She let herself be led into the Archway and out of the pelting snow. She reached a hand out, catching a few pellets before withdrawing her hand and staring at the twinkling pellets in her palm.

"George, what are these again?" Ashara asked, looking at the back of her mortal's head. He didn't stop; In fact he started walking faster.

"We don't have time for that, Butterfly!" Ashara stumbled, before finding her footing and walking faster.

As the walls passed, made of what seemed to be snow, Ashara noticed that they sometimes had corridors, and sometimes doors. And although she passed them too quickly to make any sort of inquiry as to what lay beyond, she still wondered.

George turned the seventh corner they'd passed. Ashara watched as the floor and walls slowly transitioned from ice and snow to pale, cream colored, slightly cracked stone. George stopped, turning to Ashara.

"You must go alone." Ashara's hand brushed the intersection of the wall. Strange... All of this is strange. Why has he brought me here? Why is he here in this strange palace?

Ashara stepped to the side, looking at the end of the hall, and the light coming from the ceiling. Her brow furrowed. Curiosity churned inside her. Ashara stepped closer, almost not noticing the transition from her feet slightly slipping on the ice to the soft padding noise as she finally stepped onto the cream colored stone.

As she made her way closer to the opening, Ashara noticed green vines coming into the hall through the square hole in the ceiling. As she came closer to the opening, a small section of the floor fell beneath Ashara's foot. She yelped, yanking her foot away.Her eyes widened as a platform rose from the floor. Ashara didn't think, leaping onto the square stone. She watched the clouded sky come into view as she rose.

The platform came to a stop. Small clusters of green grass sprung up in between the cracked stones of the courtyard. The walls rose Above Ashara's head, crumbled at the corners and as they came closer to the entrance. The half standing romanesque pillars stoot flanking the wide entrance, which was blocked by a tree with clinging roots.

The roots clung to the sides of the pillars and what little there was of the wall. As she examined the tree, a sinking feeling rose in Ashara's gut. This tree shouldn't be here. These walls shouldn't be in ruins. What is the meaning of this place?

Ashara walked up to the tree, her hand stretched out. A bright blue butterfly fluttered past Ashara's head, disappearing into the large crack in the tree trunk. What was that? Is it a sign? A cold gust of wind nearly knocked Ashara off her feet, making her stumble. Her hand scraped against the bark of the tree.

Ashara sucked in a breath, falling to her knees as white flashed in her vision. A pair of arms wrapped around her waist, chilling her.