A/N: I thought it was about time to write a Narnia fic. This is nearly a drabble; a bit long.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
This is all she needs—the sharp kisses of snowflakes on her cheeks (whiter than they are), the soft, rough whir of the sleigh-runners slicing through new ice—
And it is enough. Enough to feel the weight of her crown, to lock her fingers around the scepter that is hers (always hers).
This. This is her land, her realm, her winter.
Her smile curls up, coiled like a snake (the only red in this white world), because it is good, good to be queen.
Then through the stormy swirl she sees the small figure, shivering and searching—a boy, a human boy—
"Stop!"
The word tears itself from her lips, unbidden, almost unhinged—
This is no longer enough.