The first night had been magical.
The second had been a nightmare.
Snowflakes, beautiful and symmetrical, clung to Edmund's eyelashes and mingled with his tears. Dark freckles stood out from under snow-white skin, which was pale and soft from cold. Quivering lips were flushed and dark, and a small pink tongue wetted them nervously. Palms were frozen on a bed of ice; snow for blankets, frost for pillows. Edmund could not sleep.
He was alone. He was usually alone. Alone was frightening, but harmless. Harmless was something Edmund could handle. He counted his breaths. Each froze in choked white gasps. Cold fingers pressed white circles into flesh. Hands pressed desperately against walls of ice: no exit was to be found. Shivering was second nature, and tears were commonplace. Begging for release got him icy lashings, so Edmund was silent. Silent and alone would work. It was harmless. Terrifying, but safe.
Sometimes Edmund wasn't alone, though.
Edmund cowered when She approached. He whimpered when She stood by the edge of his bed. He began to cry as Her hand reached. His tears froze when She touched his skin.
His clothes were gone and his frail body was left trembling. She observed him appraisingly before reaching out once again. Fingers brushed against naked skin, leaving a trail of hoarfrost in their wake. Icy patterns were traced delicately onto his thighs and around his wrists.
She was kneeling by the edge of the bed. Her white hands slid up his white thighs. She kissed his mouth, leaving ice on his lips. She kissed his chest and his waist. She kissed his hips and his shoulders and his palms. She kissed him everywhere; even over his warm, beating heart.
Icicles crawled over his body as She breathed frost over the warmest and most tender parts of his flesh. Edmund whimpered again, but made no movement away. Retreat begat worse pain than this. Her elongated teeth bit into fingers and wrists and arms, drawling droplets of warm blood that She licked with a cold tongue.
And then she was done, and he was left naked. Tears were liquid again, and dripped down his chin and slid silently to the ground. But She was done, and when the punishment was over Edmund was allowed to sleep. He did so, greedily. His troubled eyes closed, and with a last gasp, Peter's name was on his lips.