RUTH:

I awoke early the next morning, before the sun. I started to stretch, aching as if I had spent the entire night on my right side, but I froze. Peter's arm was around me.

My face grew the hottest it had ever been. WhatdoIdowhatdoIdowhatdoIdo...

I immediately closed my eyes. If I did anything, it would be while "asleep."

I smiled. His arm was keeping me warm. A sense of calm filled me. I sighed deeply and moved closer so that our noses were inches apart. I nuzzled the top of my head against his chest. I slipped off to sleep once more.

When I awoke again, his arm was gone, but his cloak was draped on top of me. I rose to my feet, handing Peter the cloak back as he and Susan put the remnants of last night's dinner in a knapsack.

"Was I cold or something?" I asked as casually as I could.

He nodded, fighting to suppress a smile. "Yeah, you were shivering quite a bit. Figured that would help."

"Oh, thank you."

"Of course. Sleep well?"

Now it was my turn to fight a smile. "Best I've slept in months," I answered honestly.

Susan looked back and forth between us, but refrained from saying anything.

"I'll run our belongings down to the canoe," Peter said, "then we can wake the little ones and head back for breakfast."

"Sounds good!"

As soon as he was out of earshot, Susan turned to me. "Ruth, if this was what you planned for Lucy's birthday, I can't wait to see what you have planned for Peter's."

A familiar anxiety curled around my stomach as I forced a smile. "I should start that soon."

I had a very slight problem: I had no idea what I was doing.

I looked up into the dark sky. Planes like buzzards swarmed overhead, dropping bombs every second of the way.

I stood in the doorway. My family was in the street.

The blast knocked me off my feet.

This time, I didn't run into the house, as I had done that night. I ran into the street.

Michael was still alive.

"Ruth... my leg hurts..."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, baby." I looked at his leg and wanted to throw up. It was gone. I cradled him closely, kissing his forehead.

"Look!" he said, feebly pointing his finger at the sky. "A shooting star..."

An explosion ended my dream as the bomb landed on top of us. I screamed, sitting up so quickly that I flopped onto the ground. I curled into a ball, sobbing.

Peter burst into my room, pulling his pajama shirt on over his arm but not buttoning it. He rushed to my side, cradling me close. My cheek rested against his bare chest, warm and present despite my shivering.

"Worse than usual?" he asked, rocking back and forth. I nodded.

"It was... he was... his leg... and the bomb... it..."

"Shh, shh, just a dream, Ruthie, it's okay..."

I covered my face with my hands and cried. When my sobbing was reduced to spluttering, he helped me to my feet and finished buttoning his shirt.

"Thanks, Peter," I said, pathetically wiping my face. He extended a hand to me. I accepted it, a pleasant electricity warming my fingers, and followed him to the kitchen.

"I want to help tonight," I whispered.

"Are you sure?"

I shuddered, fresh tears coming to my eyes before being blinked away. "Anything to distract me."

"I can do that," he said with a smile. As the water warmed, he crept upstairs and came down with two jackets and a massive blanket. I poured the cups and pulled my jacket on.

"Where are we going?" I asked, a grin playing with the corners of my mouth.

"Just come with me," he replied, taking my hand. I wasn't sure which hand was warmer: the one holding the cup of piping hot tea or the one buzzing with electricity in Peter's. We crept outside to the beach. The moon was small, but the stars were bright. We sat side by side, and pulled the blanket around our shoulders.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head.

"Okay. That's okay. It was just a dream, no matter how bad it was."

I nodded. "Th-Thank you."

Peter drew a deep breath and took a sip of his tea. "The stars are different here than back home."

"Oh, really?"

"I think so." He set his cup down and laid on his back. I followed suit. He pointed. "See, back home, we don't have that constellation. It looks kind of like a lion, doesn't it?"

I squinted, connecting the dots with my finger. "You're right. This is kind of like a mane... or a sun!"

He laughed. "For sure."

"I like that one personally," I said, reaching to the right. "It looks like a hippo."

"A hippo?"

"See the ears? And the big smiling face?"

He laughed again. "I see it now! Well, what do you know, a hippo constellation!"

I giggled. "In Emeraldia, the night sky wasn't really black like this one and our world. It was actually green!"

"Lives up to its name, eh?"

"Does it ever!"

He sighed. "You know, Ruth, if I could turn back time, the first moment I'd relive was our coronation celebration."

"You would?"

"In a heartbeat." His fingers absently stroked my wrist. Rough scar tissue had formed there, slightly lighter than my own skin. "You're not half-bad at dancing, you know."

"Thanks, neither are you." I smiled up at the stars, a beautiful inspiration coming to my mind. I couldn't help but giggle.

"What's so funny? I didn't think my dancing was that bad."

"Oh, no, you're not bad! I just... well, you'll see."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I sat up and took a deep sip of tea. "You'll see."

🦁

On November 22, I was crippled by anxiety. I laid on my bed staring at the ceiling, overcome with stress. The ballroom had been set up and locked, the key hidden where Peter would never find it. His new cloak - blue, the same color as his enchanting eyes - lay wrapped in the bottom of the trunk at the foot of my bed. My own dress - blue, the same color as the sea on a cloudy day and his favorite color - was hidden away in the back of my closet. Everything was ready. Except for one thing... me.

I jumped to my feet and sprinted out of my room. As I hoped, Edmund was in the library, staring into space with an open book on the table in front of him.

"Oh, hi, Ruth," he said when he saw me. "What's the matter?"

"Will you dance with me?" I squeaked. "I mean, not like, dance, but would you mind practicing with me for tomorrow, I'm really nervous and I don't want to mess up but I feel like I'm going to make everything a mess but I-"

He cut me off with a laugh. "Ruth, Ruth, it's okay, you'll be fine. Just breathe. Sure, I'll dance with you."

"Thanks," I said with a sigh. He stood up and put one hand on my waist and the other in mine. I rested my hand on his shoulder.

"Peter's taller than me." He stood on his tiptoes, but only reached my nose.

I giggled. "It's okay, you don't have to-"

"I know!" He rushed over to Susan's new books, tied together with two pieces of twine.

I threw my head back laughing. "Oh no."

He perused the bookshelves, ultimately declaring "Aha!" when he came across two thick dictionaries from Telmar and Archenland.

"Oi, help me make these tight, I don't want to slip!" he called.

I firmly tied the books to his shoes with the twine and helped him to his feet. He took a few experimental steps. He was clumsy, but he was Peter's height... somewhat. It was an improvement.

"Now we need music," he said.

I laughed. "I didn't think this through. But it's okay, we don't need music."

"No, we need music to stay in time!"

'Want me to hum, then?"

"I guess so, yeah."

"Alright..." I hated my voice, but he wanted music. I hummed a cute little out-of-tune melody, giggling periodically. His face was the perfect picture of focus as we waltzed around the room. His clunky "shoes" didn't stop him from staying perfectly in time with my melody, and he even twirled me a couple of times.

"You're a great dancer, Ed! How'd you learn?"

His face turned bright red. "Practice."

I giggled, resting my head on his shoulder briefly. "Well, it's working. You're the best!"

Edmund beamed with pride. He spun me one last time, and we stopped. I helped him untie the books, and we collapsed into chairs in fits of laughter.

"That was fun! I feel better about tomorrow. Thanks, Ed, I owe you one."

He grinned. "I'll remember that."

🦁

PETER:

The sound of heavy footsteps upstairs struck fear into my heart and compelled my limbs to action. Before I even knew what I was doing, I had grabbed my sword and sprinted upstairs to the library. I soundlessly approached the door, preparing myself for whatever was inside. Wait... was that... singing?

I peeked through the doorway. Edmund was spinning Ruth, but she didn't see me. The smile on her face was bright.

"You're a great dancer, Ed! How'd you learn?"

"Practice."

She laid her head on his shoulder. "Well, it's working. You're the best!"

I felt as if I'd been slapped in the face. Just as silently as I had come, I sprinted all the way down to the courtyard. The two magpies were there, perched on the center straw man. They alighted when they saw me barrel into the arena, and as soon as they had left, I slashed the head off of the straw man, dashing what was left of him to pieces. Out of breath but still feeling no better, I sheathed my sword and headed up the hill to the pond.

Despite the November chill, I stripped to my shorts and dove in. The cold water brought me to my senses. I settled to the bottom, and watched the sunlight ripple through the water.

My mind had been buzzing with ideas of what Ruth might have in store for my birthday. But the day before, all of my dreams had vaporized, replaced with an image of my brother dancing with my girl. Well, she wasn't MINE... yet... but I wanted her to be.

Running out of air, I pushed off from the bottom and broke the surface. I sat on a rock overlooking the pool Ruth... sweet, sweet Ruth. I promised myself I'd help her. Heal her. Right what went wrong.

I had seen the way her shattered-glass eyes knitted back together as her tears dried after a nightmare. I had seen the way her shredded skin knitted back together as time went on. And yet her eyes still shone. Her hands still reached to help. Her eyes twinkled for me. Her hands still reached for mine.

I whirled around when I heard soft footsteps.

"Hey, it's just me," Susan said. She climbed up and sat down next to me. "I thought I heard splashing. Aren't you cold?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine."

"Alright..." I could tell she didn't believe me. "Why are you up here sulking?"

"I'm not sulking," I replied, painfully aware of how sulky I sounded.

"Oh, come off it," she sighed. "You're upset about something, Peter. You're an open book. Would you rather talk to Ruth?"

"No," I said quickly, "it's fine. She's probably busy."

Susan smirked. "Probably. She's been working so hard on your birthday, Peter. You're going to love it."

"She has?"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous! Of course she's worked hard on it! After everything she did for Lucy's, can't you imagine she'd do the same for you?"

My face fell. "Not necessarily. Lucy's the littlest."

"Peter! Can't you see? Ruth loves you!"

I paused. "Yeah," I lied. "I know."

Later that night, I slept fitfully. I drifted between dreaming and wakefulness fluidly, need truly knowing when I was asleep or when I was awake. Visions of Ruth dancing with Edmund flitted through my head, as well as the sound of her giggling at his antics and hugging him tightly with an apology after she ran away. At one point, I dreamt of her crying, because of a nightmare. I jerked awake and dashed to her room, but when I opened the door, she was not wailing in her sleep: she was smiling. She didn't need me. Perhaps she never had.

With tears in my eyes, I crawled back to bed. Through my window, I could see the sky lightening. It was now officially November 23. My birthday. I climbed back into bed and muffled my sobs with my pillow.

I guess I fell asleep, because I woke up to a shrieked "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PETER!" I yanked the pillow off of my face just in time to see Lucy flying toward me. She jumped on top of me and hugged me. I laughed and kissed the top of her head, looking up and seeing the rest of my family and Ruth in the doorway. I smiled, yesterday forgotten. It was my birthday, and I was excited.

I noticed now that Ruth had a picnic basket over her arm. She followed my gaze and sheepishly tucked it behind her back.

"I saw that," I said with a laugh. "I take it I need to get dressed."

She shook her head. "No, that's not necessary yet. Pajama picnic by the pond okay with you?"

I beamed "Sounds great."

We hiked up the hill to the pond and sat on the grass to eat, enjoying the sunny morning. When we had eaten, I opened gifts. I smiled widest when Ruth handed me a box, detailed with the same designs she had sketched on Lucy's gift. I opened it, and inside lay a new blue cloak.

I couldn't help but feel the slightest pang of disappointment. They had each given me part of a new outfit. After everything we had done for Lucy's... I chased the thought from my mind and forced a grin.

"Thank you, you four!"

"Happy birthday!" Ruth replied, smiling. "So I heard you were down here yesterday, taking a swim. And well, I was thinking you might want to go swimming again. But I would like to direct your attention to something." She clambered up on a rock and reached for a tree branch. "I was poking around up here, looking for something. And then I found this!" She yanked on something, and a thick vine tumbled down. She pulled it towards her. "Edmund, care to demonstrate?"

He was already prepared, and climbed up after her. I willed away the pang in my chest. He grasped the vine, and swung into the water with a "YAHOO!" I laughed.

"You really are something else, Ruth Byrne," I called with a smile. I smirked with satisfaction when I felt her eyes on me as I stripped once again to my shorts. She reached out to grab the vine and brought it back to me. I took it in one hand and struck a pose before cannonball-ing into the water. When I came up, the girls were howling with laughter. For the next few hours, my family took turns splashing into the water and striking poses while Ruth held up her hands to rate us.

While Edmund went, I came over to her and shook my wet hair, sending droplets all over her lavender nightgown.

"Peter!" she giggled. "What was that for?"

"Since you won't come into the pond, I figured I'd bring the pond to you!" I sat down beside her. "Why aren't you jumping in?"

She shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't feel like it today."

I studied her closer. "I know you better than that, Ruthie. What's wrong?"

Her hands sub-consciously went to her stomach. I suddenly understood. I touched her hand, and her eyes met mine. "Remember when I slipped up and said you were beautiful?"

She nodded, eyes wide.

"I meant it then, and I mean it now. You're beautiful."

A smile flickered across her face. "Thanks." She looked away quickly, studying the angle of the sun in the sky. "Oh! It must be past noon! I need to go." Before I could even ask where she was going, she was sprinting away towards the castle.

"Peter, it's your turn!" Lucy called. I could no longer fight the pain of the past 24 hours. What was going on with Ruth? I forced a smile and clambered up the rocks and clutched the vine. I swung out above the water, and made the biggest splash of the day according to my three eyewitnesses.

About two hours before sunset, there was a knock at the door. I shoved what I was doing under my bed.

"Come on in!" I called, and Edmund entered. He sat across from me and rolled his eyes.

"Susan told me to tell you to stop being lonely in here and play with me, and to make sure you were back in here ten minutes before sunset to put your new outfit on and wait for her to pick you up."

I laughed. "Okay, thank you. But I'm not moping," I said, jumping up to close the door. "Grab the box under the bed. It's Ruth's birthday gift."

He extracted it from the box. "Whoa... does it work?"

"Of course it does!"

"Why didn't you ask us for help? Ruth does big group things."

I felt my face grow red. "I just... this is just something I want to do myself. There's more than just this, but... but you know. You'll see." I cleared my throat and changed the topic. "What did you get Ruth?"

He hesitated. "W-Well, I... I... I got some... they're like fingerless gloves. To hide her wrists if she wants to." He dropped his eyes.

I felt a familiar question rise in my throat; for months now, I had resisted the urge to ask.

"How did you find her?"

"She was in the Witch's castle. I figured she would be there, especially after talking to Edmund."

"So you knew she wasn't dead?"

"I hoped not. But she was up and walking around when we arrived. Peter... she may not want to talk about what happened."

"I understand..."

I swallowed my question, but another question came to mind. "Edmund...?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I see your wrists?"

He rolled up his sleeves. There were no scars whatsoever. "I know what you're thinking," he said softly.

"Aslan told me Ruth wouldn't want to talk about it."

"I think she's ready, Peter." He stood, a slight smirk flitting across his face. "But I would wait until after tonight. See you later."

"Wait, Edmund. One more thing."

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't Susan tell me herself? And where's Ruth?"

He smiled. "I do believe I am not authorized to disclose that information. Good morrow, brother."

I laughed and shook my head as he left. As instructed, I donned my new outfit. I leaned against my dresser, leaning into my mirror. I studied my face. I was more tan than I had ever been in England, and even had a sprinkling of freckles across my nose and beneath my eyes. I smiled at myself, but found that my heart wasn't in it. What awaited me?

My stomach flipped remembering the previous day. Was Ruth still mine? Had she ever been?

I sighed, and my face fell. But I straightened up, and squared my shoulders. I was surprised by the way the blue cloak from Ruth perfectly matched my eyes. I was also surprised by how... kingly I looked. I was no longer the scared boy from Finchley. I opened the top drawer and extracted my crown, placing it on my head.

Susan appeared behind me in the mirror. I jumped.

"I didn't hear you come in!"

"You were a little busy staring into the mirror."

"No, I wasn't, I just-"

She laughed. "It's okay, Peter. Nervous?"

I scoffed. "Me? Nervous?" I grew serious. "Yeah. I'm nervous."

"Don't be. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"I don't even know why I'm all dressed up!"

Susan smirked. "Like I said, there's nothing to be afraid of. Honestly, you're as bad as Ruth."

"What do you mean?"

"She- oh, forget it, you're going to be late. Let's go."

Susan hustled down to the ballroom. The doors were closed, which was odd. It was silent. Also odd.

"Go on, open the doors!" Susan said, nudging me forward. I placed a hand slick with sweat on the handles, and pulled them open.

A deafening "SURPRISE!" nearly knocked me off my feet. Ruth ran up to me, in the most beautiful dress I had ever seen.

"Surprised, birthday boy?" she asked, a small smile playing with the corners of her lips that make me feel weak in the knees.

I nodded, echoing her smile, unable to find words. She was breathtakingly beautiful.

🦁

RUTH:

"He said you were beautiful, Ruth Byrne, and you can't afford to prove him wrong," I said sternly to myself as I scrutinized my reflection in the mirror. I had never before paid so much attention to how I looked. My green-grey eyes, normally dull, appeared bright tonight. I smiled tentatively, but my smile faltered as my eyes crinkled familiarly. I hated my smile, and the way it made my eyes look all squinty and my cheeks puff out. I tucked a lock of my too-straight hair behind my ear, then untucked it, then retucked it again. I didn't know what to do with myself. I always wore my hair up, never down.

I stepped back from the mirror on my dresser and studied myself in the full-length mirror along the wall. The blue-grey fabric was tight around my waist, then billowed out , stopping at my knees. I spun in a circle, enjoying the sensation of my skirt rising slowly. When I was little, I had called such dresses "princessy." Now, here I was, in a castle, about to dance with a king, in the most princessy dress Narnia had to offer.

A soft knock at the door brought me back to reality. "Who is it?"

"Susan and Lucy!"

"Oh, thank goodness, I was scared you were Peter. Come on in!"

They rushed in, quickly shutting the door behind them.

"How can I help?" Susan asked, and I noticed the large bag she held with both hands.

"I don't know what to do with my hair," I moaned, returning to the mirror on my dresser. "It's so plain and dull and I don't know what to do!"

Susan set her bag down on her bed and pulled out a small box. "Well, I was going to wait until tomorrow to give you this, but I think it would be of more use to you tonight. Happy birthday, Ruth."

I opened the lid, and inside was a gorgeous silver hair clip, a lion running to the left. I threw my arms around her.

"It's perfect! Thank you so much, Susan!"

"You're welcome! I'll help you put it in!"

She brushed my hair until it shone and pulled a section of my hair back, securing it with the clip. I smiled at myself in the mirror. Same ugly smile, but at least my hair looked better.

"Oh, I hope Peter likes it all. He seemed so... off earlier."

"Don't worry about Peter," Susan said dismissively. "He's fine."

"Yeah!" Lucy added. "Maybe he just got a bad night of sleep because he was so excited!"

I laughed. "Thanks, Lu. Maybe."

I sighed and looked one last time in the mirror. "Oh gosh, I hope this works. You said the rest of the guests have arrived already? And the musicians?"

"Yes and yes. Everything's fine, Ruth, don't worry. You did all of the work. Now is your time to shine."

"Hopefully literally! Okay." I took a deep breath. "Here goes nothing." I took Lucy's hand and hurried downstairs as Susan walked to Peter's room.

"Do you love Peter?" Lucy asked.

I smiled, blood rushing to my face. "I think so." I paused just before entering the doors. I took another steadying breath, and pulled the doors closed behind us. "Actually, no. I know so."

She giggled, and ran to her seat at the table. I called above the chatter for quiet, and told the guests of the plan, a tradition back in our world. When Peter entered the door, we would all yell "SURPRISE!" as loud as possible. The Narnians nodded, many quivering with excitement because of the newness of the idea of a surprise party. I smiled, and anxiously waited in the middle of the room.

After the slowest couple of minutes of my life, the doors opened.

"SURPRISE!" everyone screamed.

I sprinted forward on wobbly legs, praying he couldn't see how flushed I was. I attempted a smile despite my nerves. "Surprised, birthday boy?"

He nodded, smiling back. "Very," he said after a moment's pause.

Susan smiled at me from behind Peter. I nodded excitedly, returning my attention to Peter.

"First dinner, then dancing," I said, fighting to keep my heightening anxiety out of my voice. I led him to our table, where Lucy and Edmund and the Beavers and Mr. Tumnus already waited.

I could barely eat a bite of dinner, good as it was. I was too nervous. I sat across the table from Peter, so he could sit with his family, but I could tell his mind was on me. I could feel his gorgeous blue gaze (the cloak matched PERFECTLY, to my relief and delight) on me throughout the meal. As the last clinks of forks on plates died away, the music started. Susan kicked me under the table, as I was staring off into the distance when it began. Now was my time.

I rose quickly to my feet, extending a hand to Peter. "Peter? Would you like to dance with me?"

The smile on his face eclipsed every other smile I had ever seen. "I'd love to."

We took the floor, and it was a dream come true. We moved fluidly, seamlessly. Even the satyrs and the dryads that had centuries of practice were no match for us. We spun and we swayed perfectly in time.

I giggled.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"I'm sure glad I practiced with Edmund yesterday."

Something like relief spread across his face and he smiled. The music got progressively slower until we came to a waltz. The floor began to clear, leaving the two of us, the Beavers, Mr. Tumnus and a particularly pretty dryad, and less than a dozen others.

My eyes never left Peter's. I soon became lost in the swirls of blue. The bombs of London had lost their grip on me. The shadows of the chains that had restrained me in the Witch's castle disappeared. In that moment, the world stopped. Peter was all I could see.

As the final chord of the song played, Peter's hand moved from my waist to the small of my back. He pulled me close, and I tipped my face to his. He leaned forward, and our lips met in a sweet kiss.