(Untitled)

[_to_the_bone]

There's a rather self satisfied Frost in the bar.

Winter is coming along nicely, if he does say so himself.

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[whitewitch_thea]

"It is your element, this time of year. Is it not?" A soft voice floated up from the corner. Should he turn, he may see the light glint off a wine glass.

[whitewitch_thea]

"What makes you say that?" One swift movement and she stood up, to her full height.

"She is weak. I am not." The dark circles under her eyes said otherwise.

[_to_the_bone]

"You are fooling yourself."

He's now rather amused.

"Foolish creature."

[whitewitch_thea]

"Am I now?" Her gaze was cold, not that it should bother him.

"One vision, one hint of her beloved Viktor lying dead is all I need to show her and she crumbles. She is weak. I will outlast her."

[_to_the_bone]

He's standing, now, nose to nose with her, eyes bright.

"If you believed that you would not be arguing with me!"

[whitewitch_thea]

"Ah, but it's fun to make you angry, little Snowdrop."

Her mood changed abruptly again as she circled him, singing softly. Something about winter and flowers.

[_to_the_bone]

"True."

He tugs at her hair. Semi-gently, spinning ice up it.

"Cruel thing."

[whitewitch_thea]

"I like it. Call me it again." Her voice was sharp as a knife edge, bitter cold. In this close proximity to him she felt the chill clearly.

[_to_the_bone]

"Cruel thing."

His voice isice.

[whitewitch_thea]

One side of her mouth curved up, even as her hand followed, mere inches from his face.

"Like recognizes like."

[_to_the_bone]

"And ice knows fire."

His hand grabs hers.

And it burns.

[whitewitch_thea]

"Fire indeed." She half scoffed, managing to maintain her calm through the biting cold.

"You'll hurt her."

[_to_the_bone]

"But you'll like it."

The cold eases, slightly, to a skittering of crystals across her wrist, almost warm, barely brushing her.

"Are you not of fire, then?"

[whitewitch_thea]

"I do not want this vessel to die."

She breathed out, almost hesitantly.

"Perhaps. Did you ever hear tell the saying about witches? They have fire in their souls."

And the soul interested her very much.

[_to_the_bone]

"I will not kill it."

"It pleases me when it is confused. Amusing, in a way."

Her breath is a plume of white, between them.

Jack's is a scattering of crystals.

"But I will not tear it. Or toy with it's blood."

[whitewitch_thea]

"You cannot be other than you are." She accused, still suspicious, but her hands were moving steadily between them, closer to him. They followed the breath, a white bridge.