CHAPTER SEVEN:
SECOND NATURE

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ROSALIE SMILED, AND ALYSANNE shook her head before taking a moment with her back turned in Rosalie's direction. Rosalie regarded her with evident interest. She wore a plain black dress tucked in around her waist by a hunting belt of some kind. Hanging off one side was a glowing silver sword. On the other was a selection of daggers, one of which she'd held to Rosalie's neck just minutes ago. She'd pulled her hair back since Rosalie had last seen her, tying it in one simple braid with a matching black ribbon. She looked... comfortable in the woods. In every way that Rosalie hoped to be.

"Rosalie, there is one thing you have to understand. There's no set way to summon. I can give you tricks and speak of my own experiences, but what helped me might not work for you. Everyone and their abilities is different. Is that clear?"

When Alysanne turned, clearly waiting on an answer, Rosalie nodded quickly. "Uh, yes — yeah, I think so."

Bemused, Alysanne repeated, "You think so?"

"I understand," a faint blush coloured Rosalie's cheeks. "Everyone is different."

Alysanne rolled her eyes but said nothing as she paced along the edge of the clearing. Above them, the sun had slowly begun to set, though no one had come for her just yet. Maybe, they hadn't even noticed she was missing, finding relief in the absence of a thousand confused questions. But Rosalie wouldn't let the thought get to her. Excitement, low and hot, had gathered in her gut. She knew this was the moment. She'd summon fire again and everything would start to make sense.

"I would start by closing your eyes," Alysanne shot her a pointed look. "Staring off into space won't do you any good."

"Right, okay... closing my eyes now..."

In the darkness, Rosalie couldn't help but feel exposed. Alysanne could reach for a weapon and she would be none the wiser until it was too late. But as she'd come to realise, Rosalie trusted Alysanne. She was scary, and Rosalie wasn't sure what to make of her attitude sometimes, but she liked her well enough. And she was helping Rosalie. That had to count for something.

"Your gift is a part of you. It is like an extension of your arm, or your leg; a very piece of your soul. Do you see it?"

"See it?"

Alysanne scoffed. "Just... let your mind go quiet. Questioning everything is only going to make this harder for you."

"Right, sorry."

"Rosalie."

Wisely, Rosalie bit her tongue. Eyes closed, head leaning back so that her face met the heat of the sun, that warm feeling seemed to grow into a faint burn. There. Right in the back of her mind. Like an itch that needed to be scratched, or the weight of a hand in hers; Rosalie could feel it. Piece-by-piece, she drew it out, until the whole world seemed to go quiet. The wind had stopped. Everything was dead silent, even her own pounding heart, every steady breath that fell past Alysanne's lips.

Palms burning, Rosalie inhaled, exhaled, and let go.

She only had to summon the flame once. From there on out, she knew it was something that would never leave her. It was an instinct, like her lungs knew they needed air to breathe. The flame had been waiting just beneath the surface, suffocated by ignorance of her own making. Rosalie had never thought summoning fire, wielding it, was something that was possible. So the flame made itself invisible; over time, it too had forgotten itself. But after so many years lying dormant, it had found a release.

Now, it was up to Rosalie to learn how to live with it; like two souls sharing one body, her flame could be a friend or a foe; nonetheless, a constant companion.

But so many pieces continued to remain unturned.

Why her? She knew she wasn't a Hannigan by blood, but her life had always been normal. So what was so special about a girl abandoned by her parents? Who were her parents? Did they come from Narnia?

Rosalie Hannigan was capable of so much, but she couldn't help but feel held back, always dwelling on the what ifs.

For once, she wanted answers.

She wanted the truth.

But for now, it would have to wait.

"Rosalie! Where are you?" Edmund's voice was frantic and fearful as he burst into the clearing. The smile on her face and the flame in her palm almost immediately dimmed and flickered out. Edmund stared back at her with wide eyes, momentarily distracted. He rounded on Alysanne furiously. "What did you do?"

"Me?" Alysanne scowled back. The wind raised into a warning howl. "Your girlfriend came to me, kid. I was helping her—"

Normally, Edmund's whole face would've flushed bright red at Alysanne's assumption. Rosalie's certainly did. But... there. Right behind the suspicion was a glimmer of panic. Rosalie inched closer in concern.

"Ed, what's wrong?"

"It's the Telmarines..." He was quick to grab Rosalie's hand, unphased by the faint warmth that now lingered beneath her skin, a constant reminder of what she could do. "You need to come with me now. Both of you."

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"IT'S ONLY A MATTER of time," Peter insisted to the crowd of Narnians that had gathered around the stone table. Amongst them were his siblings, Caspian, Rosalie and Alysanne, the latter of which had sunken into the shadows the second she, Rosalie and Edmund joined the impatiently waiting group. Rosalie had tried to follow her but was held firmly in place by Edmund's hand in hers. "Miraz' men and war machines are on their way. That means those same men aren't protecting his castle."

"Then what do you propose we do, your majesty?" Reepicheep asked.

Instinctively, both Peter and Caspian replied in unison.

"We need to get ready to—"

"To start planning for—"

Both went quiet, turning to glare at each other as awkward silence ensued. Rosalie exchanged a look with Susan, who stood opposite her, and grimaced.

When Caspian nodded and stepped back, Peter continued, "Our only hope is to strike them before they strike us."

"But that's crazy!" Caspian couldn't help protesting. "No one has ever taken that castle."

"There's always a first time."

Seemingly agreeing with Peter (for once) Rosalie was surprised when Trumpkin added, "We'll have the element of surprise..."

"But we have the advantage here," Caspian retorted, searching the sea of faces for someone to support him. Like Rosalie, he caught a flash of white hair and seemed to stare in that direction almost pleadingly. No help came from Alysanne, though, and so Caspian sighed with defeat.

It was then that Susan came forward. "If we dig in, we could probably hold them off indefinitely."

Trufflehunter (aha! Rosalie had remembered a new name after all!) was the next to voice his support. "I, for one, feel safer underground."

Rosalie wasn't sure where she stood. Both sides had a point, but both also seemed pointless. Sooner or later, the Telmarines would attack. What difference did it make if they were at the castle or at the How when it happened?

"Look, Caspian," Peter huffed. "I appreciate what you've done here, but this isn't a fortress. It's a tomb."

"Yes, and if they're smart, the Telmarines will just wait and starve us out," Edmund pointed out.

"We could collect nuts," a random squirrel suggested from beside Reepicheep.

The mouse turned to glare at him with a surprising amount of disgust for such a small animal. Rosalie had to smother a giggle against Edmund's shoulder as Reepicheep scoffed out, "Yes, and throw them at the Telmarines! Shut up!" With that, he turned and bowed lowly to Peter. "I think you know where I stand, sire."

It was down to Peter.

With the weight of a dozen pairs of eyes on him, he turned to Glenstorm. "If I get your troops in, can you handle the guards?"

Glenstorm glanced at Caspian, who shook his head in vain. "Or die trying, my liege," the centaur replied, and a hushed murmur echoed around the room.

"That's what I'm worried about."

The surprising addition of Lucy Pevensie's voice immediately silenced the whispers. Peter turned to his sister with furrowed brows. "I'm sorry?"

But Lucy refused to back down. "Well, you're all acting like there's only two options; dying here or dying there."

"I'm not sure you've really been listening, Lu—"

"No, you're not listening," Lucy snapped, failing to hide her frustration. "Or have you forgotten who really defeated the White Witch, Peter?"

A muscle in Peter's jaw twitched dangerously. If Lucy wasn't his sister, Rosalie had a feeling he would've completely lost his temper. Instead, he retorted in a cold voice, "I think we've waited for Aslan long enough."

"Then what's your final verdict, Your Majesty?" Alysanne's voice separated the shadows as she stepped up beside Caspian. Her expression was icy, skin strangely pale in the dim glow of the torches. Her stare aimed to strike down Peter where he stood; but to his credit, Peter seemed entirely unphased. "Will you let everyone die for you before you see sense?"

"My verdict," Peter snapped. "Is that we're striking first. There is death in war, Alysanne. If you're not prepared to fight, then you know where the door is. See to it that you're out of our way by sundown tomorrow."

Tomorrow it was.

In twenty-four hours, everyone in this room would march into battle, a fight that not everyone would make it back from. The thought was sobering, and as everyone cleared out in wake of Peter's harsh final words, Rosalie looked down at her hands helplessly.

She had no idea what she was supposed to do, but she wanted to help.

Or die trying.

Wasn't that what war was all about?

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A/N: Okay this was a bit of a shorter chapter, but I wanted to set the foundation for Rosie's plot. Obviously, there's a lot to be explained still, some of which you'll only learn by reading -trojanwar's companion fic Elegy. Alysanne is a deeply complex character and I can only explain so much of her without taking away from her own story. But the plot of Prince Caspian is quickly progressing! Up next is the battle at Miraz' castle 👀👀 Hopefully coming sooner than the three months it took me to post this chapter and the one before lol..

Side note! If you didn't notice, Alysanne's faceclaim has been changed from Freya Allan to Milly Alcock, who is honestly the perfect Alysanne. Maybe some graphics in the works for her and Rosie? We'll have to see :D