Being stabbed is quite painful, no matter where on the body it occurs. Being stabbed all over your body all at once was nearly unbearable.

Jadis never even had to move. With a flick of her finger, an intense pain would pierce right through his skin and stay there. Then, Jadis would add another and then another.

Having been stabbed twice before in his life, once by Jadis herself, Peter thought he knew how painful it could be. Granted, she had only stabbed his upper arm nor was it very deep.

All the same, all the training and fighting he had done had not prepared him to be squirming against his restraints and writhing in his seat.

At first, he had tried not to yell. Honestly, he did not want to give her the satisfaction of seeing the verbal confirmation of his suffering. But after the first hundred stabbing pains were pulsing through his body, he had no choice other than to scream. The pain had been too terrible.

The next hundred pains erupted through his body, and then the following hundred came. Peter had tears begging to be released. His wrists burned from his pulling on the restraints, and his lungs could barely catch a breath between screams.

Each one of his siblings passed through his mind; each one he sent a prayer to help him. No savior came.

Instead, he found some peace when he blacked out.

The peace did not last long because he woke up to a knife slicing him across his forearm. It was a shallow cut, and it stung more than it did any serious damage. But it got him back to consciousness.

The only mercy was, at least, now it seemed that the stabbing pain had stopped.

Panting and drenched in sweat, Peter took a moment more to breathe before he gathered the strength to glare at her.

"You are not the first to look at me with such disdain before," Jadis claimed. "You will not be the last."

"You are just wasting your time being resurrected," Peter said in response. "Hurting me will not change that when my siblings find that I have been taken captive, they will march the entire Narnian Army here."

Jadis molded over his words only for a moment before saying, "Your belief in your siblings is misplaced. They will not be saving you."

"You are wrong," Peter said firmly.

"I am certain they will be quite content without you. But we will see which of us are correct."

Moving on from her jab, Peter asked, "Why haven't you killed me yet? If you wanted the throne, your first act should have been to kill Narnia's High King."

"High King? Is that what they named you?" She smirked, amused mockery lingering on her tone. "How desperate of them."

"Mock as you will. I was crowned by Aslan, and nothing you do will change that."

She crooned before saying with amusement in her voice, "Oh, how much you have changed. A lion names you King, and you believe yourself worthy." She seemed intrigued by the sentiment. She studied Peter for a moment before saying, "Unlike last time, Aslan is not coming to save you."

"And when he does?"

"Things don't happen twice," she promised. "And I'll prove it to you."

Peter swallowed at her tone. She spoke with superiority over him, as if she knew something he did not. Something that would make him doubt Aslan.

No, Aslan has always come when my siblings or I have needed him. Peter had no reason to doubt him, and therefore, refused to.

The way Jadis's smile twisted, he thought she could tell he did not believe her. It made him even more nervous.

"Bring him to me," Jadis ordered. Peter was hastily unchained and dragged a foot from her.

He could not stop the shakiness that clung to his chest. His breathing hitched, as she cleared the distance between them and latched her hands around his wrist. He yelped, desperately pulling away from her grip. Her fingernails dug into his skin, drawing blood. It did not faze her.

Instead, her grip tightened. The two of them locked eyes, her expression unreadable.

With a cruel pop, she sharply yanked his wrist downward, breaking the bones holding his wrist together in pieces. Immediately, his hand went limp, and the pain pierced through his arm. He had cried out when she broke it. She seemed to relish in his pain. It disgusted him.

Peter staggered back, cradling his now broken wrist. She did not try to stop him from pulling away from her. It only took a second for Peter to see why she did not attempt to keep him by her side.

One of the ogres slammed into him, sending him spiraling to the ground. He cried out again when his injured wrist dashed across the ice. He protectively took hold of it, hoping to keep it guarded.

It did not matter. The next second, he saw the same ogre, raise his club above his head.

"No, don't!" Peter harshly got out before the ogre brought down his club right on Peter's knee.

A hundred splitters of bone shattered at contact. A cry escaped his lips. He reached to grab a hold of his now shattered kneecap only to be hit with a hammer on his shin. The shin did not break at first contact though. The dwarf continued his assault until the bone cracked.

Then the next strike came to his ribs.

At one point, Jadis had offered, "I can make them stop. All you have to do is ask."

As soon as those words left her mouth, he had decided he would not beg to her. He might be her captive for now, but he was still High King after all. Besides, he was not all that sure she would stop them even if he had begged her to.

But as more of her followers cracked his bones, he was struggling to keep that line of thinking in check. He prayed it would be over soon.

It was not. Following, the ribs, they went to his hands and his feet, then to his arms and his legs. He was helpless against them, and they only continued their onslaught until they broke nearly every bone in his body. All that could be heard was the shattering of bones and screams of pain that followed suit.

But the true pain came after almost every bone in his body had been shattered. He was lying on the floor, a broken heap. When the blows subsided, the pain took full grip of him. It was nauseating. He looked at how his arms hung limp at his side or even how his feet were twisted wrong. Every inch of him was in an awful pain.

It did not matter to Jadis, as she came over. She gripped the top of his hair, yanking him to a sitting position. He whimpered in pain and landed painfully on his rear once she released his hair. Again, the two locked eyes. He was uncertain what she could do to him now. She already broke every bone in his body. However, with the glow of her hand, she touched his crooked feet.

At first, nothing happened until the bones in his feet started shifting back in their place piece by piece. Peter screamed in pain, writhing as he did, which only resulted in more pain from moving his broken bones prematurely.

As the pain moved up to his shin and caused a sharp jab to ripple through his body, Peter asked, "What are you doing!?"

"Healing you, my dear," she said with not a trace of kindness. Certainly, she was healing his broken bones, but the cruelness was in the slowed amount of time she took doing so. They both knew it.

As soon as the healing reached his upper shin, he was nearly in tears. He had to bit his bottom lip, drawing blood, to keep himself from crying. He refused to let her see him cry.

"St—" he caught himself. She only smirked knowingly, as she continued her healing.

Once she started healing the many shards of bones that once made up his kneecap, the pain was excruciating. Although he tried to fight it, the pain caused his vision to become a blinding white before he blacked out entirely.

He came to only seconds later. She had seemed to wait for him to regain consciousness before she proceeded further up his body.

The healing process was far more painful than the initial breaks. If anyone had asked Peter if the healing of bones was worse than breaking them prior to this, he would have said you were lying.

Every inch of him hurt, and he was no longer certain which parts were still broken or were already healed. Panting and shaking, Peter just laid there. He did not think he could move. Numbness gripped his being and clenched around him, making even the cold seem dull, just for a moment.

With a snap, the next bone was set into place; a cry escaped Peter's lips. How many bones did he have left to be healed?

He mentally pleaded for it to be over soon. As much as he wanted her to stop, he did not want—could not give her the satisfaction of making him beg her to stop.

Jadis took her time healing every single broken bone. The process took what felt like hours to finish.

When she was finally done, Peter was exhausted to his core, drained of all energy. A distant numbing still had a hold of his body. He could not move an inch. He was not sure if he was still in pain or if his brain just thought he still was.

He vaguely heard Jadis say something. He could not even protest when the one centaur flung him across his shoulder.

Tiredness danced around his eyes and at the edge of his limbs. All he wanted to do was sleep and wake up back at home with his siblings.

But the thought that kept ringing through his exhaustion was the haunting realization that if this was just Jadis's introduction to what she had in store for him, how was he going to survive against her?