victorious | jason grace ||| discontinued

s e v e n

TAYLOR

If the entry hall had been cold, the throne room was like a meat locker.

Mist hung in the air, and Taylor had to squeeze her arms tight around herself to keep herself from shivering. Along the walls, purple tapestries showed scenes of snowy forests, barren mountains, and glaciers. High above, ribbons of colored light- the aurora borealis- pulsed along the ceiling. A layer of snow covered the floor, so Taylor had to step carefully. All around the room stood life-size ice sculpture warriors- some in Greek armor, some medieval, some in modern camouflage- all frozen in various attack positions, swords raised, guns locked and loaded.

At least Taylor thought they were sculptures. Then Jason tried to step between two Greek spearmen, and they moved with surprising speed, their joints cracking and spraying ice crystals as they crossed their javelins to block Jason's path.

From the far end of the hall, a man's voice rang out in a language that sounded like French. The room was so long and misty, Jason couldn't see the other end; but whatever the man said, made the ice guards uncross their javelins.

"It's fine," Khione said. "My father has ordered them not to kill you just yet.

"Super," Jason said, making Taylor grin. Maybe he did have a sense of humour after all?

Zethes prodded him in the back with a sword.

"Keep moving, Jason Junior."

"Please don't call me that."

"My father is not a patient man," Zethes warned, "and the beautiful Piper, sadly, is losing her magic hairdo very fast. Later, perhaps, I can lend her something from my wide assortment of hair products."

"If she wants her hair to look like it did when she got out of the lake, maybe," Taylor said. "But I doubt it. How else would she woo Jason Junior in real life?" She winked at Jason when Piper turned a beet red, glaring daggers which Taylor ignored.

They kept walking, and the mist parted to reveal a man on an ice throne. He was sturdily built, dressed in a stylish white suit that seemed woven from snow, with dark purple wings that spread out to either side. His long hair and shaggy beard were encrusted with icicles, so Taylor couldn't tell if his hair was gray or just white with frost. His arched eyebrows made him look angry, but his eyes twinkled more warmly than his daughter's- as if he might have a sense of humor buried somewhere under that permafrost.

"Bienvenu," the king said. "Je suis Boreas le Roi. Et vous?"

Khione the snow goddess was about to speak, but Piper stepped forward and curtsied.

"Votre Majesté," she said, "je suis Piper McLean. Et c'est Jason, fils de Zeus, et Taylor, fille de Nike."

The king smiled with pleasant surprise. "Vous parlez français? Très bien!"

"Piper, you speak French?" Jason asked. Piper frowned.

"No. Why?"

"You just spoke French." Piper blinked. 

"I did?" The king said something else, and Piper nodded. "Oui, Votre Majesté."

The king laughed and clapped his hands, obviously delighted. He said a few more sentences then swept his hand toward his daughter as if shooing her away. Khione looked miffed. "The king says-"

"He says I'm a daughter of Aphrodite," Piper interrupted, "so naturally I can speak French, which is the language of love. I had no idea. His Majesty says Khione won't have to translate now."