A/N: Whitemiko12 requested the Pevinsie family grieving. This is my shot at fulfilling the request.
The pitifully small collection of coins still left from Peter's last payday were divided out on the table into the necessary stacks.
Food. Coal. In better times there was a third stack for saving up for more expensive things, like new boots and medicine, but these were not good times.
Three mouths. One worker. Two children collecting tesserae.
And, of course, that worker could only do so much good when the mines were closed. Again.
Peter understood the recent riots all too well, but they couldn't afford to lose any more coin from the Capital's punitive closings.
The coin he still had in his hand bit deep into his palm as his hands curled into frustrated fists. He slowly uncurled them. This was why Susan had always done the sums. Peter could do them just as well, but he always got frustrated. Susan just found new ways to pinch and save, to stretch out their coin and to convince people to sell to them at lower prices.
But Susan was gone now.
Peter dropped his head into his hands.
He jumped when a hand appeared on his shoulders. "Ed. Thought you were asleep by now."
Edmund shrugged. "It'll be alright," he said, looking at the table. "We'll work it out."
Peter shot a quick glance to make sure Lucy was still asleep in the nest of blankets they used as a bed and spoke with a little more honesty than he otherwise might have. "It'll be close."
Susan had hunted. Susan had been the bargainer. Susan had been almost eighteen, and they had made decisions on the assumption that she'd be a mine worker earning money soon.
Susan had stepped in where their mother had stepped off, and Peter couldn't do this alone. He just couldn't.
"We'll make it work," Edmund said stubbornly.
Peter forced a smile onto his face. "Of course we will. Now go back to bed. I don't want to hear that you've fallen asleep in class tomorrow."
"Small chance of that. Our history teacher promised to talk about the trial and its precedents." Edmund's yawn undercut his words.
The trial. Caspian's last legacy beyond the grave was justice on his uncle, just like he'd wanted. The Capital hadn't been able to ignore so public a plea.
It was the sole bit of good news they had these days, and Peter's smile was a shade more natural as he shoved Edmund toward Lucy. Edmund went, grumbling all the while.
Peter blew out the lamp after Edmund laid down. They couldn't afford to waste any more fuel.
He wanted to stay up, to figure this out, but there was nothing left to do but hope Edmund was right. To have faith, Lucy would say.
Lucy whimpered in her sleep, another nightmare catching up to her. Peter got up from the table in the dark and edged his way over to the little nest. He curled up on the other side of her than Edmund and laid his arm over both of them, so that he could have at least an illusion of keeping them safe.