CHAPTER THREE:
FEVER DREAM

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THE FIRST THING ROSALIE did while wearing the foreign silk of a Queen's dress was trip over her feet and face-plant into the bushes. Her cheeks flushed pink when Edmund offered her a hand up. He smiled fondly as, once again, Rosalie stumbled over the hem of her dress.

"Are you alright?" he chuckled, reaching up to pluck a leaf out of her hair. Rosalie's face was so red that Edmund started to get worried. "Rosie?"

There it was again. That damn nickname.

"I'm fine," she squeaked, glancing around almost desperately for a distraction. "Lucy, I have no idea how you and Susan manage this. I feel ridiculous right now."

"Well, you certainly don't look it," Lucy assured the older girl. She was standing a few feet behind her brother, a smirk on her lips that only widened when Rosalie turned to look at her. "It just takes some getting used to, Rosie. Trust me, Susan despised it at first, and now look at her."

Rosalie didn't miss Lucy's obvious teasing, but she chose to ignore it despite the displeased frown Edmund shot his sister in response. Instead, she whirled around to where Peter and Susan had gone on ahead of them towards the beach, Susan leading the way in a floor-length purple gown, a bow and arrow slung over her back. What Lucy said was true. Susan had fallen effortlessly back into Narnian life.

All of the Pevensies had, in their own way. Peter was finding even the smallest opportunities to boss his siblings around, particularly Edmund, who Rosalie hadn't been able to take her eyes off of since he donned a shirt in her favourite shade of blue. Even Lucy, like her big sister, moved with the kind of grace that only a Queen could have. It made Rosalie feel almost... jealous. Where she was tripping over her dress and refusing to even hold a dagger, the Pevensies were acting like they had never left Narnia in the first place.

"Come on," she murmured, refusing to meet Edmund and Lucy's stare as she dusted off the last bits of dirt on her dress. "We should catch up."

And it was a good thing they did, too, for not even a minute had passed after Rosalie reached the beach when a horrified cry slipped from Susan's lips. Edmund and Lucy didn't hesitate to run towards their sister, while Rosalie had to take a moment to gather the folds of her dress in her arms. Once she was sure she wouldn't trip and face-plant again, she attempted a run herself. She reached the waves last out of the five, grimacing when she dropped her dress only for the hem to soak through.

About a metre or so away from the shore, Rosalie spied a boat floating in the shallows. Two men dressed in chainmail were seated inside, a significantly smaller figure wrestling in their hold. Rosalie gasped as they lifted him in the air, revealing a wire of rope around his hands and feet, and a piece of cloth stuffed in his mouth.

This was not what Rosalie had imagined when Edmund and Lucy so passionately described Narnia to her...She was certainly shocked when Susan didn't even think about raising her bow towards the newcomers.

"Drop him!" the Gentle Queen commanded, her voice carrying across the ocean breeze and alerting the men of their presence.

For a moment, pure confusion settled in their expressions. It was clear they hadn't expected anyone to be out so far, especially at a castle long-since abandoned. However, the confusion didn't last long when their captive continued to struggle in their arms. They were quick to throw him overboard, the splash of the water as it dragged him down encouraging Edmund and Peter to sprint into the waves to help him. From behind them, Rosalie let out a cry when one of the men lifted a crossbow and aimed it at Edmund. The Pevensie boy was quick to move, allowing his sister to plant an arrow of her own in the man's chest. His companion was quick to follow him overboard, the two disappearing beneath the waves.

Together, Edmund and Peter brought both the captive and the boat towards the shore, leaving the men to retreat back wherever they came from. Rosalie hung back nervously as the Pevensies towered over the captive (he looked to be a dwarf of some kind, but Rosalie didn't want to assume) quickly untying his hands and removing the cloth from his mouth. It took him a second to gather his bearings, but the moment he coughed up the water from his lungs and forced himself onto his feet, he rounded on Susan with furious eyes.

"Drop him?" he echoed, clearly furious. "That's the best you could come up with?"

Offended, Susan muttered, "A simple 'thank you' would suffice."

"They were doing fine drowning me without your help!"

"Maybe we should have let them," Peter scowled.

The dwarf's eyes narrowed dangerously, but he didn't have the chance to retort when a doe-eyed Lucy spoke softly, "Why were they trying to kill you anyway?"

"They're Telmarines," he sighed, some of his fury fading. Rosalie understood where he was coming from. She also found it hard to be angry whenever Lucy spoke. It was like trying to pick a fight with a kitten. You knew it was cruel. "That's what they do."

"Wait," Edmund frowned, sharing a confused look with Peter. "Telmarines? In Narnia?"

"Where have you been for the last few hundred years?"

Whoa. Okay. Rosalie had figured some time had passed, but centuries? Suddenly, she didn't feel so excited to see this world the Pevensies had boasted about. A lot could change in just one year let alone hundreds. She only had to look at her own world to see that...

Despite the dwarf's lingering glower, Lucy smiled sweetly. "It's a bit of a long story," she said, passing Peter the sword he'd discarded when he jumped into the water.

The sight of the weapon, at its familiarity, made the dwarf's face go deathly pale. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," he let out, glancing into each of the Pevensies' faces. He seemed confused by Rosalie, but didn't pay her much attention as he groaned to himself, "You're it? You're the Kings and Queens of Old?"

Straightening at the sudden recognition, Peter made a show of stepping forward and holding out his hand. "High King Peter, the Magnificent."

Caught off guard, Rosalie let out a loud snort then quickly covered her mouth with her hand. "Sorry," she muttered when Peter turned to glare at her, and Edmund started to snicker.

"You probably could've left out that last bit," Susan added with a sigh.

It was the dwarf's turn to laugh as a red-faced Peter lowered his hand. "Probably."

He still didn't seem sure of them. Now that Rosalie had spoken, he looked more confused than before. Maybe it was her presence, her shocking red hair, or even the way she glanced around the place like a gazelle learning to walk on its own, but he knew, as she did, that Rosalie wasn't meant to be there. So why was she? And if this really was the Kings and Queens of Old, why on earth was she with them?

Slyly, Peter unsheathed his sword. "You might be surprised," he declared, sharing a grin with Edmund that made Rosalie's chest tighten.

"Oh, you don't want to do that, boy," the dwarf shook his head in warning.

"Not me," Peter denied, surprising Rosalie by handing the dwarf his weapon. He turned to look at Edmund again, declaring, "Him."

Immediately, Rosalie's eyes went wide. Edmund seemed confident, unsheathing his own sword and smirking devilishly, but until just an hour ago, Rosalie hadn't even known he could do this. The thought of someone causing him harm made her heart drop in terror. It didn't help that the dwarf was actually good at combat... He feigned weakness at first, dragging Peter's sword through the sand, but just when Edmund got comfortable, he struck with the speed of light. He knocked Edmund right in the nose, causing both Lucy and Rosalie to cry his name fearfully.

"He'll be fine," Peter assured Rosalie while Susan squeezed Lucy's hand. "Trust me, Rosalie. Edmund's the best swordsman of his age."

Rosalie breathed a sigh of relief as, true to Peter's word, Edmund easily shook off the hit and swerved around the dwarf, knocking him in the back of the knees with a grin firmly back in place. The dwarf stumbled and struggled to spin around, the fight going back and forth for what felt like only a second before ending with Edmund's sword at his opponent's neck.

The dwarf gasped, eyes blowing wide as he exclaimed, "Beards and bedsteads! Maybe that horn worked after all..."

Susan took a step forward then, asking curiously, "What horn?"

"Well... yours, Your Majesty."

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"SO," TRUMPKIN, THE DWARF, finally addressed Rosalie as she, Trumpkin and the Pevensies commandeered the Telmarines' boat and started away on their quest to find Caspian and the Narnians. It was a long story, one that Rosalie had mainly tuned out as the wonders of their surroundings caught the priority of her interest. Her face flushed at the sudden attention. She made a sound of acknowledgement, not sure what to say under the weight of his stare. "Who are you?"

Rosalie's nervous eyes flickered to Edmund beside her, then the Pevensies at the opposite end of the boat, before she said, her voice a mere murmur, "I'm Rosalie."

"Never heard of you," Trumpkin said frankly.

Rosalie grimaced before muttering, "Well, I've never heard of you either—"

"Okay!" Edmund cut in sheepishly. Initially, he had smirked at Rosalie's remark, but after a pointed look from his brother, as if to say 'why are you letting her run her mouth?' Edmund said to Trumpkin, "Rosalie's our friend from home. She's never been to Narnia, but she came with us this time."

"Why?" he frowned, still watching Rosalie in a way that made her feel anxious, annoyed almost.

"Haven't the faintest idea," she replied, forcing herself to sound neutral when Peter cleared his throat from behind the ores. "One second I was at a train station. The next thing I know, I'm in a whole different world finding out my friends are royalty."

Trumpkin made a sound of understanding, only to say a second later, "I haven't the faintest idea what a train station is, but alright."

"You don't have trains in Narnia?" she frowned, shocked. "Well, how do you travel... literally anywhere?"

"Normally by boat," Edmund was the one to answer, smiling at the look of wonder that crossed her face then. His siblings shared a not-so-subtle grimace of disgust that caught Trumpkin's attention. He turned back to Edmund and Rosalie with a new sense of understanding, this time with a smirk to match. "Sometimes by carriage if the trip was short enough."

"Sounds... mediaeval."

"That's kind of the point."

After that, they travelled in silence for a while. Edmund offered to row in Peter's place, but the older boy stayed stubbornly in his spot even as his movements started to slow from exhaustion. Rosalie didn't really mind. It gave her time to memorise Narnia. It really was a beautiful place, despite how sadly Lucy looked around. The water was crystal clear, shimmering blue beneath a sky dusted by soft clouds. She could see fish swimming beneath the boat, little crabs that danced along the sandy bottom. Sometimes, a bird would hop from one tree branch to another by their heads. It was... serene for Rosalie, but disappointing for the Pevensies.

"They're so still," Lucy murmured at one point, head arched to watch the tree branches sway in the breeze.

Trumpkin frowned at her. "They're trees. What'd you expect?"

"They used to dance."

"Well, it wasn't long after you left that the Telmarines invaded," he muttered, slowly looking around like the trees were a graveyard. "Those who survived retreated to the woods. And the trees? They retreated so deep into themselves that they haven't been heard from since."

"That's... really sad..." Suddenly, Narnia didn't seem anywhere near as beautiful as it did before. Rather, it felt incomplete, like a painting left unfinished.

"I don't understand," Lucy admitted after Rosalie. "How could Aslan have let this happen?"

Far above their heads, a skittish bird took flight as Trumpkin let out a laugh. It wasn't a nice sound — rather, it was one of anger, of resentment that even the birds felt and fled from. "Aslan? Thought he abandoned us when you lot did."

"We didn't mean to leave, you know," Peter exclaimed, the first thing Rosalie had heard him say since his commands on the beach.

Rosalie was beginning to think she understood the eldest Pevensie boy. He was... a lot at the best of times, but he spoke of his 'abandonment' of Narnia with such sadness, like just the thought was agonising for him. He truly loved his home, in his own way, and couldn't stand the idea that he had failed his kingdom far beyond repair.

"Makes no difference now, does it?"

"Get us to the Narnians," Peter insisted, forcing himself to row faster again. "And it will."

They were silent until they reached land again, the afternoon sun burning hot against their backs. Rosalie had gotten so used to the rocking feeling of water beneath her feet that solid earth felt almost foreign to her. She clutched Lucy's hand tight in her own as the younger girl eagerly rounded the boat to help her out.

"Come on!" she exclaimed, excited to show her around. "Come on, Rosalie."

"Alright, alright," Rosalie chuckled, catching Edmund's amused eyes and smiling. "Lead the way, Lucy."

The two girls wandered down the bank as Edmund, Peter and Susan worked together to drag the rest of the boat onto the shore. Watching Rosalie and Lucy cautiously, Trumpkin embedded the anchor into the sand. Rosalie was slowly getting used to her surroundings now. She only stumbled once over her dress as she struggled to keep up with Lucy.

"Look!" the youngest Pevensie gasped at one point. "Look, Rosalie!"

When Rosalie followed Lucy's excited gaze, she expected something insignificant, like a patch of flowers or perhaps a nice angle of the sun hitting the surface of the water. She wasn't expecting a fully grown bear digging into a dead fish, or for Lucy to not even hesitate before dragging both herself and Rosalie into the firing line.

"Hello, there," she giggled, Rosalie tugging out of her grip for a second.

"Lucy, that's a bear..."

"They won't hurt you," Lucy rolled her eyes and dragged her back beside her. By then, the bear had already spotted them, standing up on its hind legs before lowering back to all-fours to amble closer. "It's alright. We're friends."

"Lucy, I don't know about this," Rosalie muttered, her heart in her throat.

Something in her had shifted, like a switch being flicked, something so insignificant that Rosalie didn't even notice at first. But as the space between themselves and what she'd always thought was a wild, dangerous animal slowly began to close, and Trumpkin suddenly let out a cry of warning, everything started to burn. Her heart, her throat, her head, her hands... Lucy whimpered and tried to pull her own hand away, but Rosalie's grip was forceful as the bear began to sprint after them.

"Rosalie..."

"Lucy, run."

"But Rosalie—"

"Stay away from them!" Susan cried at the bear, throwing her bow up as her brothers scrambled for their weapons left in the boat.

The rocks scattered across the sand made it awfully difficult to run properly. Rosalie squealed as her dress caught beneath her shoe, her feet giving out and dragging her down, down, down with Lucy right behind her. The bear was on them in a blink — shoot, Susan, Rosalie's brain screamed as everything went red. Why aren't you shooting?

The bear was so close, one more inch and those teeth would tear them apart. Rosalie didn't think. One of her hands moved, touching fur. Everything went hot. Lucy screamed. The bear scrambled away with a handprint burned into its flesh. Trumpkin shot him down. Dead.

"What just happened?" In an instant, the others were beside them, wide eyes taking in the burn mark, and Lucy's tears, and Rosalie's terror.

"Lucy..." the redhead whimpered, slowly letting go of the younger girl's hand.

In a sudden rush of coldness, she took in the red raw skin of Lucy's palm.

She looked down at her own hands as Peter yanked Lucy away cautiously.

Rosalie's hands were unmarked except for the faint tingle of something unfamiliar now unlocked.

A fire just waiting to catch.