PETER:

"I knew it was hot, but I never dreamed we could actually have a famine on our hands," I said, feeling as if I might cry.

"I know," Susan replied, her voice cool and calm. "But let's take a moment to think. What can we do to help prevent that?"

I sighed, massaging my temples with my fingers. "We don't have the supplies necessary for greenhouses. We don't have any irrigation systems."

"Maybe Edmund will help them figure one out!" Lucy added. "He's good at tinkering!"

I nodded. "If he has time. He and Ruth are looking for the vial."

"Well, surely they won't spend 24 hours a day looking for it," Susan reasoned.

"I don't know what to do. Maybe we should tell Ruth and Edmund to call off the hunt until Narnia's food supply is safe."

"What if they're connected?" Lucy asked. "The timing seems peculiar, doesn't it?"

"It does, Lu, but they can't control the weather." I lifted my head and looked at Susan. "Right?"

"None of my books have said anything about Narnians being able to control the weather, no."

"Good thought, though, Lucy. The timing is rather awful." I sighed heavily again. "I suppose I will send requests for aid to the neighboring kingdoms. Perhaps the rain and cool weather that we typically have has gone elsewhere."

"That seems wise," Susan agreed. "I can write them. Go work on something, Peter, you look awful."

I reluctantly rose from the table and descended to the basement, where a half-finished armoire awaited me. With each back-and-forth of the saw, I cursed the heat that threatened my kingdom.

When it came to external threats, I had always been able to protect my people. I had led countless repellant attacks that ensured Narnia's security from greedy neighbors. And as far as internal threats were concerned, dwarf relations had improved, my family was safe, and Narnia was happy. The theft of the vial was distressing, but Ruth and Edmund were taking care of it. I trusted them.

But famine... I was powerless. I could not control the weather. I could not make the crops grow. I could not fill their stomachs. Had I food to share, I would have gladly done so. But it would seem that our plans to store surplus had come too late to be of any present use.

I was powerless. Completely powerless. I cursed the heat, I cursed the sun, I cursed the dry soil and the inadequate water. Ruth had been right. Though the sun shone brighter than the moon and the stars, it came at a cost. I prayed that aid would come before the curse of famine could claim any victims.

I was so intently focused I missed Lucy's soft footsteps descending the stairs behind me and thus jumped very high into the air when she suddenly appeared next to me.

"You scared me," I said with a chuckle, setting the saw down.

"Sorry," she replied, sitting on a bench I had already finished. "I just came to see if you were alright."

I smiled. "Yeah, Lu, I'm alright. Thank you."

She studied my face with uncharacteristically serious eyes. "Are you lying just so you don't have to burden me?" I guess my surprise st her question gave me away, because she smiled sadly. "I guess so, then."

I sat next to her and draped an arm over her shoulder, pulling her tight. "It's not that, Lucy. I trust you, I just don't want you to have to worry about me on top of everything else."

"But you worry about me," she pointed out.

"That's my job as your big brother."

"But I want to worry about you too. I want to help you."

"It's alright, really."

"I guess you're right. I'm not Ruth."

I froze. "What do you mean?"

"She always helps better than anyone else. And that's true for everyone." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I go to her before Susan sometimes... but don't tell Su."

I smiled. "Your secret is safe with me. And I think you can help just as well as Ruth."

"Good. In that case, now that you know one of my secrets, tell me one of yours."

"I see what you've done."

"Come on, Peter, let me help."

I wracked my brain for a bone to throw her. "Well, what do you want to know?"

"Do you wish you were with Ruth instead of Edmund?"

"Oh." I hesitated.

"Your secret is safe with me, Peter," she assured me. "Just be honest."

"Part of me does."

"Because Ruth is part of you, and you're part of her. Right?"

I smiled. "I've never really thought about it that way. But I suppose you're right."

"You both want to be whole, but that can only happen when you're together."

I laughed. "Lucy, you're wise beyond your years."

She shrugged. "I spend a lot of time with Susan and Ruth. They say things like that a lot."

"They do indeed. Well, thank you for checking up on me."

"Of course." She rose and smiled. "Let me know if you need anything else."

I returned her smile. "I will," I said, surprised at my own honest earnestness.

🦁

The letters were sent out, and we even used some of the furniture I had made as bargaining points in exchange for either food or good seeds that grew in hot weather. But waiting for news, for better or for worse, was dreadful. Awful. Painful. So I busied myself with even more furniture, but it wasn't for my own sake this time. Even though it was only July, November was coming quickly. So I started on a project. A big project.

Unlike my other ones, I started with a sketch. I went in and measured the height of the wall of the empty room on the furthest northwest side of the castle. Then I measured the whole room, top to bottom and wall to wall, even the window. Then I sketched my plan for the room. A big bed along the wall opposite the window. A massive wardrobe to the left of the window, and a massive bookshelf to the right of the window. I planned to add more in the future, but I started on the bed first.

It was big enough for two to sleep comfortably. But before I put it all together, I grabbed my whittling knife.

Carving and whittling had been my first Narnian hobby, and my fingers quickly obeyed the commands my mind subconsciously conveyed. The headboard soon became a Narnian landscape, one of Ruth's favorites: the view from Aslan's How overlooking the forest below. The knobs at the end of the bed soon became lion heads, majestic and proud.

After three days of work, I waited until Susan and Lucy were asleep before bringing the pieces of the bed to the room. After stuffing the cracks in the doorway with pillows to try to muffle the sound, I hammered away until the bed was complete. I made a mental note to start collecting birds to make a mattress, or else find a way to buy one without the girls knowing.

Over the next few stressful days of waiting for news, the room came together slowly. The bookcase was adorned with daisies and vines. The wardrobe came last, and took the most time. On each door was a magpie, and I even took the time to paint it.

The left door boasted a blue magpie, and the right a black. They stood together in a nest, filled to the brim with small flowers and glittering gems. The sun was setting behind them, the sky a brilliant pink and purple gradient. I was happy with my creation, beyond happy, and I hoped with all my heart that Ruth would feel the same way.

The morning after I finished the wardrobe and had managed to move it into the room without waking anyone up, I was awakened by Susan, far too early for my liking.

"What is it?" I asked grumpily, pulling my pillow over my head to block out the harsh rays of the sun.

"Our responses."

I threw the pillow aside and jumped out of bed, hastily throwing my crown on top of my messy hair and a cloak around my aching shoulders before I reached the kitchen, where the scrolls laid on the table. Lucy was already there reading one, despair written all over her face.

"Lu...? What is it...?"

She looked up at me. "The heat is impacting the whole world. Not just Narnia. Everybody else is running low on food too."

My stomach dropped to my toes. She managed a small smile. "I will say, though, Telmar is very interested in your handiwork, and would like to exchange some of their surplus crops for two baby's cribs, three double-wide rocking chairs, and a dresser with a mirror. It would appear the king has just had triplets when they were only prepared for one baby, and they have been sharing a room for the past two weeks."

"Oh! That's great news!" She offered the scroll to me, and I read the beautiful words for myself, twice. I sprinted over to Susan's room, where she was brushing her hair out.

"Did you hear about the furniture?" she asked, not even looking away from her reflection.

"Yes. Would you mind-"

"Writing a response? I already sent the messenger back saying you would love to."

"Did you write a letter to go to the mainland, asking for more lumber?"

This attracted her attention, and she met my gaze. "More lumber? You blew through all of that already?"

I smiled. "I've been busy."

She narrowed her eyes at me.

"Do you want to see?"

"I do now, once I'm ready for the day."

"Alright, how about I write the letter while you finish?"

She nodded, and I quickly scribbled a letter to go to the mainland, asking for any extra lumber supplies they had to offer. I left it on the kitchen counter for when the messenger returned, then met Susan in the hallway. I led her to the northwest wing of the castle, and opened the door slowly. She understood immediately, and her face broke into a wide smile.

"This is perfect, Peter, perfect. So I guess you've decided...?"

I beamed. "Absolutely."

"How will you do it?"

"That's all I'm not sure about," I admitted. "But I will. Has Ruth talked to you about it at all? Is there anything I should know?"

Susan laughed. "'Tis wonderful to see you in such high spirits, nervous though you may be. Just be yourself, Peter. She loves you for you, not for whatever I tell you to do."

I smiled. "Thanks, Su. Note taken."

She smiled back. "In these dark times, we could all use a little bit of light."

"I wish I had my whole family here."

"So do I. But I'm sure they're alright. You know how much Ruth cares for Edmund, and vice versa. Neither will let anything happen to the other."

I nodded and laughed. "Anybody that tries to lay a hand on either of them while the other is around will have hell to pay."