queen of narnia
Jadis is enraged. Aslan, back! Confirmed by the deputy of her own Maugrim, who died on the sword of the very child she thought she'd caught! Maugrim, dead. She paces. She comes too close to Winter for her liking on one of her passes through her throne room and rather than turn an instant before she means to she backhands him out of her way into the nearest wall. She paces and fumes and roars.
Finally she spins on her toe to face Winter, who may still be on the floor in his careless way but has surely recovered from the blow by now. "You," she says, "must go to the lion, and tell him that I desire safe conduct to treat with him on a matter of as much importance to him as to me. Go peacefully, I do not mind if you alarm the pitiful creatures who side with him but do not harm them while I seek parley. Do you understand, my Winter?" She bends to crook her first two fingers under his chin to turn his head up for frigid eye contact, inspecting him, thinking furious thoughts to which he's only an accessory. "I think the lion may be unnerved to see you. We will see."
Finally she spins on her toe to face Winter, who may still be on the floor in his careless way but has surely recovered from the blow by now. "You," she says, "must go to the lion, and tell him that I desire safe conduct to treat with him on a matter of as much importance to him as to me. Go peacefully, I do not mind if you alarm the pitiful creatures who side with him but do not harm them while I seek parley. Do you understand, my Winter?" She bends to crook her first two fingers under his chin to turn his head up for frigid eye contact, inspecting him, thinking furious thoughts to which he's only an accessory. "I think the lion may be unnerved to see you. We will see."
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Her army is demoralized very much by this - some of them desert mid-battle and flee in random directions.
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In fact, he almost seems - pleased about it.
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But she has no opportunity for that. And he's a rallying point for what's left of the Witch's army, and by himself he'd probably be enough to wipe out a significant fraction of their side, with the possible exception of the giant and Aslan. James wouldn't even bet that much on the giant. The only reason she has survived this long against him is that her magic sword is working at full capacity.
She ducks under a swing of his sword, raises her shield as he whips it back around, feels the impact like a massive hammer coming down on her arm - and - brings her own sword up, clean through his wrist. Winter's sword falls to the ground with his right hand still attached.
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He giggles the whole time.
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While he's laughing and admiring his new hand, James puts her sword through his heart. And hopes it'll take.
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Where the blade emerges from his back, it ices over almost immediately; the whole sword becomes bone-chillingly cold, although the hilt remains clear of ice.
It's the only thing that does.
The ice spreads rapidly over his clothing and skin, until he is completely encased, frozen mid-laugh. He'd fall over, if his boots weren't iced to the ground.
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Soon everything is still except for the battlefield medic, who no longer requires her unicorn.
"James," says Bella through her staff, "you okay? Do you need some cordial? It lasts, it turns out."
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"You have a captive, it seems," he observes.
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Winter thaws.
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