"Perhaps that would be a safer approach at testing it," Sansa agrees. She reaches her hand out and the pond freezes over, fractals of ice forming over the surface. Controlling the thing that can be so dangerous to her people gives her a sense of calm and power and it isn't often that Sansa has felt as if she has power in her life.
"There, I've frozen it over. You should try to melt it now. I do not think it is frozen completely solid; I do not think I'm capable of that."
Wilhelm watches as, under Sansa's concentration, ice creeps across the surface of the pond. At the center, the ice spreads thin enough that the water is still clear below, but at the edges a thicker crust gathers.
"Not bad," he says warmly. "You're at a disadvantage, since it's hot out. But...you made winter come."
He cracks a laugh at the bad joke. Then he sucks in his lips in thought.
"When I try to melt it, try to keep it frozen. Like a battle."
It would be easy enough for him to drop a barrage of fireballs through the ice she has painstakingly formed, but neither of them would get much out of it. If he instead tries to melt it with the precise power of one flame, she has a chance to fend him off. So that's what he does — he summons fire to his palm and sends it out over the pond so that its heat licks away at the layer of ice.
It's difficult to hold it off, to keep his flame from melting all of her ice. It is a battle of wills, this, and she knows that she is going to lose because he has more power than she does. Still, it is an important exercise to try and hone her strength and that is why she engages him.
"It feels as if it takes all my strength to keep the ice there," she says, voice strained a little. "I am weaker than you are so my focus must be stronger."
He holds himself back from the full thrust of his fire's power. He could amplify the flame, intensify the heat burning at its core, but he doesn't want to make the challenge impossible for her. Like he said, she's already at a disadvantage, what with it being the middle of the summer. Still, his fire slowly but steadily eats through a chunk of her ice.
"You're not weaker," Wilhelm shakes his head. "You just haven't practiced as much. It takes time."
He's not used to thinking of himself as powerful — it hasn't crossed his mind at all, until this moment when Sansa calls herself weaker. Powerful feels like a far off point on the horizon that he's always striving for. After all, it was the raw desire to never feel so weak again, after what he endured at the hands of Josselyn's acolytes, that pushed him to sincerely dedicate himself to practicing magic last year.
"I don't like being at a disadvantage," Sansa says. "I've been that way most of my life. Now that I have something to protect myself, I want to be good at it. Perfect, even."
She doesn't know if Wilhelm understands exactly why that is but at least he understands that she wants to be good at magic and is willing to entertain her attempts at getting better at it.
no subject
"There, I've frozen it over. You should try to melt it now. I do not think it is frozen completely solid; I do not think I'm capable of that."
no subject
"Not bad," he says warmly. "You're at a disadvantage, since it's hot out. But...you made winter come."
He cracks a laugh at the bad joke. Then he sucks in his lips in thought.
"When I try to melt it, try to keep it frozen. Like a battle."
It would be easy enough for him to drop a barrage of fireballs through the ice she has painstakingly formed, but neither of them would get much out of it. If he instead tries to melt it with the precise power of one flame, she has a chance to fend him off. So that's what he does — he summons fire to his palm and sends it out over the pond so that its heat licks away at the layer of ice.
no subject
"It feels as if it takes all my strength to keep the ice there," she says, voice strained a little. "I am weaker than you are so my focus must be stronger."
no subject
"You're not weaker," Wilhelm shakes his head. "You just haven't practiced as much. It takes time."
He's not used to thinking of himself as powerful — it hasn't crossed his mind at all, until this moment when Sansa calls herself weaker. Powerful feels like a far off point on the horizon that he's always striving for. After all, it was the raw desire to never feel so weak again, after what he endured at the hands of Josselyn's acolytes, that pushed him to sincerely dedicate himself to practicing magic last year.
no subject
She doesn't know if Wilhelm understands exactly why that is but at least he understands that she wants to be good at magic and is willing to entertain her attempts at getting better at it.