I don't own Narnia or the Pevensies.


Please

"Please," Edmund begged. "Please, don't."

He was on his knees, frozen tears on his cheeks. She towered above him, imperious in her iciness, one hand upon her outthrust hip, one with the fingers wrapped around her wand. She was pointing it at another boy in the snow, one with blood leaking from his mouth, trickling onto the whiteness of the ground. Her gaze was as cold as the air. Shivering, shaking in the winter night, Edmund clutched himself and hunched over.

"What was that, Son of Adam?" Jadis asked lightly, twirling her wand. He whimpered, unable to meet the stare of her victim, who he knew was trying to catch his eye. He didn't want to see the damage he had done.

"Please," he repeated brokenly. "Leave him alone."

"Oh, but isn't this what you wanted?" she laughed. The dwarf Ginnabrik delivered a crushing blow to the boy's side, and he cried out in pain, coughing up more blood. Edmund wailed along with him.

"No, no," he sobbed into the otherwise still night. "Please. Just…just go, leave…"

"You made your choice, boy, now live with it and stop sniveling," Jadis sneered. She took one threatening step forward, at which he lunged in front of her target, collapsing on the snow before his brother, looking up at her with eyes full of defiance and fear.

"No, I'm choosing now," he said desperately. "I never chose you, I only…oh God, I only…"

When she ignored him and continued to advance, he scrambled backwards until he was almost resting on top of the other boy.

"Ed…mund…" Peter croaked disbelievingly. His broken legs were twisted grotesquely beneath his battered body; he was not a pretty sight. And yet he found the strength to wrap his arms around his brother from behind. "I knew…knew you'd come back…"

"Oh God, Peter," Edmund sobbed, clutching his arms. "Oh God, we're going…going to die…"

"It's all r…right, Ed," Peter choked. "Sus'n and L…Lucy, they escaped, they're…"

Jadis huffed impatiently, standing before the broken duo. Peter coughed more, and the snow was spattered red.

"We're…not afraid of you," he managed to say, though he did not sound nearly as courageous as he would have liked. It's just that he figured if he's going to die anyway, he might as well make Ed feel like there is some hope. But he didn't want to go like this, all weak, so he used his brother as an anchor and levered himself into a sitting position. Edmund curled against his chest, probably unaware of the broken ribs, but the pain wasn't going to last much longer now so he didn't say anything.

"Touching," Jadis remarked disinterestedly. "And…interesting."

"Edmund," Peter whispered urgently; the smaller of the two had turned himself away from the horrible sight behind him and rested his dark head in the crook of Peter's neck. At his brother's whisper he looked up, face awash in tears. "Be strong now, Ed, I lo…"

He was cut off by his own mouth turning to stone. When the Witch left the scene, she left behind two moonlit figures; one a statue, and the other doomed to die in the stone arms that hold it captive.