Voice Post//Home

[treadingdawn]

[Very very subdued shivering.]

Kara... unless you wish to practice in the snow I suggest we continue after this curse is over.

To the gentleman joining us for dinner... Jack Harkness, what would you like to eat?

Comments

[lionpassant.livejournal.com]

[Again with the presumptions! Edmund really should stop. It doesn't bode well to be so full of it.]

After you, King.

[He eyes Caspian's blade in hand, quick, agile, dangerous. A typical cut and thrust. Edmund is cautious He doesn't want to feel the end of that, he's seen Caspian handle it. Edmund does something in mockery of a bow. Him first, Edmund will follow.]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

[He returns the bow in the formal way of Telmarine duels, the non-lethal variety, and immediately spins, lunging forward to cut at Edmund's shins.]

[lionpassant.livejournal.com]

[Edmund jumps back; a lithe leap of avoidance.

Dangerous, dangerous! He sees the shine and sheen on that thing. It can and will cut. Edmund doesn't want to test it out.

The nice thing about being young means he never had his scars to begin with. Edmund doesn't want them back if he can avoid it.

He pulls back, works his blade down in a sharp slide.]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

First to draw blood.

[Caspian adds, almost forgetting the conditions of their spar! A little blood never hurt anyone, and dismemberment is off limits. He doesn't mention whether blood from the face is allowed.]

Hff!

[He draws his own sword back, making that cold sound of razor edge sliding against razor edge to avoid Edmund trapping his own blade at the hilt. Even in the snow what Caspian lacks in sheer strength he makes up for in speed. When their swords part he lunges forward again to poke at Edmund's side.]

[lionpassant.livejournal.com]

[That makes things all the more easier then. But for who? Either Caspian or Edmund? Edmund isn't quite sure.]

I present no argument.

[Edmund is barely able to twist out of the way. He is no good with this blade. Lightness doesn't bother him, it's the width that's the problem. It either should be thinner than this, or broader. Something in the middle doesn't bode well for him. He's only able to smack sword away from sword in idle compromise. He spins, drops down to slash at Caspian's feet.]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

[He nods, acknowledging Edmund's agreement--hey there sword! Caspian has to spread his stance wider to avoid getting his foot cut. This makes getting back upright with Edmund in front a little more difficult, so the Telmarine does what he knows best. He continues moving forward in a full circle, spinning his weight on one toe only as a trained dancer would before his other foot lands, opening his side to Edmund if the other man is quick enough to take advantage of it. They're much too close to use their swords without severely injuring each other, but no one ever said punches are illegal moves.]

[lionpassant.livejournal.com]

[Caspian's gotten better. He must be training with Peter from time to time.

Edmund thinks Caspian plays a bit unfair but fine, if that's how Caspian wants it done. Than this is the way it will be played. He smacks his fist forward to make use of the open leeway. Edmund pulls himself upward, sword in hand. He has little time to admire Caspian's moves, any other time he would be in awe of it. Now, not so.]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

[BAM. Those knuckles connect with his face and Caspian stumbles away, gaining the distance he wanted albeit not in the way he wanted. His lip is cut open.]

This one does not count.

[He gestures to the blood staining the back of his hand after he touches the wound. Edmund is much more formidable than he can ask for, and Caspian places both hands on his own sword to swing it across the man's chest. They're moving across the melting snow faster, deeper into the woods.]

[lionpassant.livejournal.com]

Whoops.

[Is all Edmund offers Caspian. He really shouldn't grin, but it comes anyway. He can't help it. He spins his sword across and over with ease, taking advantage of the space caused by such an under-handed blow. Really. If Caspian's the one doing the underestimating, he should very well stop. Because Edmund's here to prove him otherwise.

His grin widens at the blood. Sadistic, Edmund? Not quite. They really shouldn't tell Peter about this though. He won't be very impressed.]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

[Caspian's footwork is faster now, careful to not underestimate Edmund anymore. He uses their surroundings just as he did with Peter, darting around a snow covered tree to reappear sword first, blade slashing at Ed's bicep.]

[lionpassant.livejournal.com]

[He manages to rip asunder at Ed's jumper, as Edmund pulls back rather belatedly, feels the tear take half of the material of his clothes as prize. It hangs loose off his shoulders, shows skin against the cold wind.

Wow. Susan's not going to be happy about sewing that.

Edmund sidesteps, blade moving lightning quick to slap Caspian's sword into the ground and to catch Caspian unawares. Fist meeting face again? Maybe.]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

[Damn, he didn't think about Susan.

Oh Caspian's not falling for that again. He ducks low enough to avoid the fist and this time pushes at Edmund, shoulder first. It's called a bodycheck in sports, but Caspian doesn't know this, he only knwos that half the time it works! Watch out for that snow though, it's soft, slippery, and definitely hides the fact that they're moving across a downward slope towards a frozen body of water below.]

[lionpassant.livejournal.com]

[Momentum is the word.

The push has Edmund sliding back. Edmund drives his blade into the ground, trying to keep his movement steady. A foolish move, it simply stabs at something, breaks the surface of whatever he's standing on (avalanche, somewhat? think of it like that), and it's sending Edmund slipping his way down to ice.

Talk about losing footing.]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

Edmund!

[His shout is one of genuine surprise and concern. Caspian follows after him, darting down the slope carefully and quickly, to the edge of the ice.]

[lionpassant.livejournal.com]

[There goes Edmund down, down, down. Oh, Peter's really not going to like this.]

Ow.

[Edmund's back smacks against the ice - hard. A graceless landing. The ice is unsteady, he tries to get up, clutches at his head uncertainly. The impact had hurt.]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

Edmund, do not move.

[Caspian warns, sheathing his own sword. If there was any time they could have used Aslan in the City... Nevermind that, he goes looking for something, anything he can use to extend towards Edmund.]

[lionpassant.livejournal.com]

[Oh, of all the-- Edmund swears something dirty under his breath, feels the ice fragile underneath his weight. Not good.]

Really, Caspian. Let's not tell Peter of this, all right?

[A lame joke. Edmund isn't quite sure what else to do. To move would be perilous. To stay will only draw the inevitable. His situation seems rather hopeless, does it not? He feels the cold creep. Wonderful. Like that really helps.]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

[He nods, finding no branches in the snow, and his sword isn't Rhindonesque enough to cut one down.]

Let's not.

[Caspian says, trying to lighten the severity with humor in Edmund's lead. He doesn't want to take any chances with a dead branch breaking. But he does have another option. Caspian removes his jacket and sword belt, quickly tying the two together and sliding the 'line' out to Edmund.]

Quickly, Edmund.

[lionpassant.livejournal.com]

[Edmund doesn't want to imagine their faces if they ever find this out. Peter, Susan, Lucy-- honestly! Why must he always get into trouble like this!]

Ahuh.

[Edmund doesn't need to be told twice. He needs no other prompt. He tugs the line, captures it in his hands, his actions surprisingly with care. The Pevensie senses a cold a'coming if he lands into frozen water. He really doesn't want to risk it, no matter how good Susan's chicken soup is.

He makes a gentle movement, tests out the surface of the ice-- It's letting with for now. Edmund breathes, he moves forward, hears a crack-- dammit.]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

[He isn't just hearing cracks, Caspian can see them, but he focuses only on Edmund and tries to help pull him in.]

Keep steady.

[This is why young Telmarines are told to fear the water. Nevertheless he keeps pulling, slowly, inch by inch.]

[lionpassant.livejournal.com]

[Keep steady? Go with it, go with it. Edmund grits his teeth. Don't doubt it. He's trying! But Edmund's never been known to stay idle. What a surprise, for once he is.]

Uh.

[Edmund doesn't really know what to say. He works in tandem with the pulling, following it, going along with it-- keeping a wary eye out. It is too cold for this!]

Tell them I love them?

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

Just save it for later.

[Sound familiar? He says with a huff while pulling. And there's another crack, and another. Caspian always did have sensitive hearing.]

Brace!

[He lunges forward while jerking on the line, trying to grasp Edmund's hand.]

[lionpassant.livejournal.com]

Fine, then.


[Quite the familiar. Does Caspian ever do him proud. Epic line. Edmund cracks a grin. Just in time.

Good bye, ice. It all breaks all the way down. Hello, water. Freezing ice cold water, that is.

He goes sailing into the wet, feet in first. Injustice! It's freezing! Thank God Edmund knows how to swim. He manages to keep his grip firm, still holding onto the line with both hands, trying to move one hand against the cold to clutch at Caspian's own.]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

[He growls out of exertion. His heels are scraping along the ice's edge as water weighs Edmund down. This calls for another desperate measure. He has to let Ed idle in the water while he one-handedly removes his sword from its sheath and stabs it into the ground. An anchor if any.

Caspian pulls again, fingers touching Edmund's skin. It's a lot of strain on one arm, but gradually, very very gradually, he feels them moving back towards the shore.]

[lionpassant.livejournal.com]

[Edmund's letting Caspian pull, letting himself be pulled. He's no good in this situation. He feels himself move against a frozen lake, icy particles biting into his skin, drowning and rendering his limbs useless. This is just like the White Witch's jail cell all over again.

It sinks into bone, chills. Edmund's grits his teeth. He is by no means light in the water. He can only wait as they start to move closer towards shore, feels bad at the pain Caspian must feel in his arms. This is really why Edmund should move out -- if not to find himself, to stop getting other people in trouble!]