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[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?

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[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!]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

[If Caspian knew the word he would call Edmund's reasoning for moving out a load of bullshit. Trouble follows them anyway, it's what makes the Pevensies a legend in the old stories.

Once he has Edmund on the ground and out of the ice, Caspian quickly peels at his clothes. Oh yes, he's disrobing Ed. First Aid protocol you know.]

[lionpassant.livejournal.com]

[Legends or not. Magnets for trouble all the same. The word legend is something to pretty it up all up.

Edmund is FREEZING. There is no other way to put it. His teeth are chattering and he hisses something low and dirty underneath his breath. Warming up would be a wonderful first idea. Unfortunately, thoughts escapes him. Because all that's going in his mind right now in a mantra is: cold, cold, cold. Somehow Edmund manages to jerk his head in a quick nod up at Caspian.]

T-Thanks.

[Thanking him is the least that Edmund needs to do. He owes him a lot after this. Edmund also isn't quite sure what Caspian's doing. It's not registering for the moment. All Edmund knows is that he is indescribably cold. He's never felt this cold in a long, long, long time. And he never ever, ever, wants to.]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

[The jacket and belt are done for, he leaves the wet and freezing garments on the ice where they eventually sink into the break Edmund had made. He takes his own tunic and the shirt he's wearing under it off, pulling them over the nude and freezing Ed.]

Don't speak.

[It's times like these he's very glad he paid attention to his elders. Caspian's cold without any shirts on, but he's not anywhere near freezing like Edmund is.]

[lionpassant.livejournal.com]

[Edmund shakes his head gruffly. Really? What else can he do? He simply clutches at the material of the tunic against his chest. It helps, not much, but still, it does.

He rocks back against his skin, closes his eyes shut, trying to steady himself damning his body. If he was older, he wouldn't be having as much trouble as he is now: younger, weaker, susceptible. Being younger outweighs being older. Edmund hates it.]

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

[Caspian conserves his own energy by just doing and not talking. He gathers up what he can, leaving the wet garments and weapons for a loss. Maybe they can at least retrieve the swords, but later. With a good lift he picks Ed up in his arms to carry him back over the slope. The faster they can get back to City proper the sooner they can find help.]

[lionpassant.livejournal.com]

[Edmund, for the most part, is thankful that with being young comes being light. Weight is of no real issue here. A good thing. He lets Caspian take him, carrying him against his chest. The cold is starting to settle, still freezing blood and bone. Edmund sighs. He's never going to hear the end of this later, he knows. Of all the stupidity-- this has hit an altogether new high.]