From the Attic Poor

Summary: from the attic poor to the palace grand, the king and beggar went hand-in-hand. Peter encounters a poor lost little boy on the street, and is determined to help him.

Author's Note: The title, and the idea from this story, came from John McCrae's poem "The Shadow of the Cross". I own neither it nor any of the characters in this story.

At dawn, when hushed was earth's busy hum

And men looked not for their Christ to come

From the attic poor to the palace grand

The king and beggar went hand-in-hand.

-The Shadow of the Cross, John McCrae-

The sounds of the perfect summer day drifted through the heavy England air. The sky had already poured itself out onto the unsuspecting citizens for the day, and the sun had been out long enough to dry out most of the ground, and Peter Pevensie had decided it was too nice not to go for a walk. He had invited all his siblings plus Eustace, who was visiting, but Susan had plans later, Edmund was catching up on school work, and Lucy and Eustace were already on their way out to eat lunch, so his walk ended up being very solitary.

He approached the park that was only a few blocks from his house, and stopped to look at the scenes around him. This park held many good memories for all the members of his family. Several groups of children played various games while their parents sat on the park benches. A few young couples walked through the park holding hands, while an older couple sat on one of the park benches eating lunch.

The smile on his face grew as memories flooded back to him.

"Peter! Catch me Peter!" Lucy shrieked as she ran away from her oldest brother, her long blonde hair gathering around her face. They both laughed as Peter lunged for Lucy, who quickly darted out of the way.

Susan shook her head.

"Bet I can catch you before Peter does, Lu."

Lucy laughed as Susan joined the chase, and for several minutes they ran around with neither being very successful at catching Lucy. Even though she was the youngest, she was light and quick on her feet.

After a few minutes, Susan paused.

"Come join us, Ed," She invited. Edmund had been sitting by himself and simply watching for some time. He rarely joined the siblings in games anymore, but Susan always invited him in the hope he would change his mind.

Edmund shook his head as he tore a blade of grass from the ground and twirled it in his fingers.

"Please, Ed?" This time the plea came from Lucy. Susan and Peter smiled- they knew Edmund would have a hard time saying no to Lucy. Anyone would have a hard time saying no to Lucy.

"All right," Edmund grumbled, but he couldn't mask his smile for very long.

It was several minutes before Edmund finally caught Lucy, and the four siblings fell to the ground in a heap, all of them laughing and out of breath. It was the lightest they had all felt for several months.

Peter was brought out of his memories by a tug on his shirt. Startled and dazed, he looked down to find a boy not older than seven or eight by his side. His blue shirt was faded and dirty with grass stains. His pants had been patched up several times and his dark hair grew long around his face.

"Sorry mister," the little boy mumbled, "but do you have any money?"

A frown grew on Peter's face as he began to understand. Due to the war, there were now more children on the streets than Peter ever remembered seeing in his childhood, and it broke his heart. He was grateful that neither he nor his siblings had ever experienced something so awful. Peter assumed, and correctly, that the boy s was alone. Most likely an orphan.

Peter dug into his pockets, finding a few round coins but little else. It wouldn't do. It only took him a second to make up his mind. He knelt so that he was eye level with the boy.

"What's your name?" Peter asked.

"James," the boy whispered. His lip trembled and it was obvious to Peter that he was scared.

"James. Hello James, I'm Peter."

Peter held out his hand, and James took it by the fingers. James' fingers were thin and much too brittle for his age. Peter tried to hold eye contact, but James quickly glanced toward the ground.

"When is the last time you ate James?" Peter asked, afraid of the answer.

"Two days ago," was the reply.

"There's a café down the next block. I'll buy lunch," Peter smiled, trying to convince the boy.

James started but then stopped suddenly, looking up at Peter fearfully. Peter took a deep breath and once again leaned down to James' height.

"It's very good, and you need food," Peter said, trying desperately to be as comforting as he could. Oh, if only Lucy was here! She always knew just what to say and was particularly good with children. She only had to walk down the street to get a dozen hugs from the neighborhood children.

This time James held Peter's gaze for several minutes before nodding.

The café was incredibly dim and empty, and the waitress brought the food out quickly. James inhaled half of the soup he had ordered before coming up to take a breath. Peter had several questions he wanted to ask, but decided it would be best to let James eat in silence. Once most of the soup was gone, Peter deemed it safe to start talking again.

"Where do you sleep, James?" Peter asked.

"In the park," James' answer was short, but he seemed to be growing in comfort around Peter.

"Do you have family?" It was a question Peter had dreaded asking, but knew it must be discussed.

James shook his head. "My father was killed in the war, and my mother was killed in a raid trying to save my older brother."

The words hit Peter hard, and he felt as if the air had been vacuumed out of his lungs. He had almost lost his brother many times, but that nightmare had never quite made it to reality and Peter could barely stand to imagine losing Edmund. James once again looked away from Peter.

"James," Peter started, trying to get James' attention once again, "would you like to stay at my house tonight?"

A glimpse of hope passed over the boy's face, but quickly vanished once again in fear.

"Your family won't mind?" James asked timidly.

Peter shook his head. "They won't mind at all," Peter replied, knowing that was only mostly true.

Right before they entered the house, James decided it was time for him to ask a few questions.

"Who all lives here?"

"My parents, my two sisters, my brother, and I," Peter replied, not realizing how large his family must seem to someone who had no family left, "but right now my cousin is also visiting."

"That's a lot of people," the little boy marveled, causing Peter to chuckle.

"Yes, I suppose it is."

Peter reached for the door, praying that the first person they would encounter would be anyone but Susan. Unfortunately, Peter didn't have it so easy. Peter almost hit Susan opening the door.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, startled by the sight of her older brother. It took her a few minutes to regain her composure, but after that she spotted James quickly.

"This is James, Susan," Peter said in a polite tone, "He's going to be spending the night here. James, this is Susan. She's the second oldest."

James did his best to smile at Susan, but his face faltered as soon as he saw Susan's eyes. For it was obvious that while Susan has painted on a thin smile for James, she was not happy about this arrangement. James quickly darted his eyes between Susan and Peter. Peter had said his family wouldn't mind, but it had been a lie. Peter pulled Susan into the kitchen, and James stood in the hallway, scared and praying that he wouldn't be made to leave. He didn't want to intrude into anyone's life, but Peter had seemed nice enough and it had been so long since he had slept inside.

Out of sight of James, Susan made no effort to hide her anger.

"What are you doing, Peter? You can't just take in a stray off the streets and expect all of us to be all right with it! I know you have a big heart, but this is insane. Are you going to start bringing every homeless person you see home with you?"

Peter's eyes grew narrow in anger. Taking a deep breath, he tried to keep himself in check.

"He's not a dog, Susan. He's a boy who lost his entire family. Don't you have any sympathy for him?"

Susan turned away from Peter, taking a deep breath. When she turned back around, Peter noticed the tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

"Yes, Peter, I do. But I know you. It's not just for one night, is it? Because you can't take care of him today and then just toss him back outside tomorrow. I understand that we're not as unfortunate as he is, but we have to take care of our family too, and that's not easy either."

"I know, but Susan," Peter started, "we should take care of him too if we can. When he came up to me in the park, his dark eyes. . . well, they reminded me of Edmund. And he was someone's brother, and son, and we owe it to them to take care of James if we can."

Susan sighed, "All right. I understand. I think you made a mistake, but I'll try to be supportive-later. Right now I'm late."

Peter shook his head at her retreating back. It seemed to him that Susan was always darting off somewhere these days. He wished she would just slow down sometimes.

Edmund laid down his book, straining his ears to hear. It was as he thought- Susan and Peter were arguing again. These days, arguments seemed to be more frequent in the Pevensie household than he ever remembered, and Susan always seemed to be half of it.

Soon, the voices died down and a door slammed. That was the way these arguments always ended- with a slamming door.

He stood up and made his ways downstairs to the kitchen, but had to do a double take in the hallway. There was a little boy sitting against the wall with his head down and hands folded. Edmund shook his head, instinctively knowing the answer was in the kitchen.

Peter's back was turned when Edmund entered, but he could sense it was Edmund.

"Peter, did you know there's a little boy sitting in our hallway?" Edmund asked with raised eyebrows.

Peter nodded. "His name's James. He's an orphan. He came up to me in the park, and I offered to let him stay here tonight. . . and some more after that."

Edmund nodded. It was unusual to see a boy in the hallway, but it didn't shock him, not with Peter's character. It also explained the fight that he had overheard.

"Is that what you and Susan fought about?"

Peter nodded, "I didn't think she'd be very happy about it."

Edmund shrugged.

"It won't affect her much. She's hardly here anymore anyway," Edmund couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"You don't think mother and father will mind, do you?" Peter asked the question that had been weighing on his mind the most. He thought that both his parents would understand, but Susan's reaction was making him second guess.

"Well, it is a pretty crowded house all ready, and Eustace is here. I don't know if they'll be thrilled, but they'll understand more than Susan did. I mean, we have plenty of room. He can stay in your room with Eustace. He won't mind. Lucy won't mind either. It's just Susan."

"He's been sitting in the hallway for awhile now. I'll introduce you- he seems pretty frightened."

Edmund nodded.

"I don't blame him. I would be too."

James looked up with bleary eyes as Peter and another boy approached. He had almost fallen asleep in the knowledge of security for at least one day. The other boy was several inches shorter than Peter, and had much darker hair and darker eyes, but wore a similar smile. James scrambled to his feet.

"James," Peter began the introduction process once again, "this is my brother Edmund. Ed, this is James."

Edmund held out his hand, and James took it more forcefully than he had Peter's but still with caution. He had been fed, but his body was still weak and Edmund could tell.

"James, you can stay in my room along with my cousin. He's not here right now but he'll be back later. Come with me and we'll get you in to some clean clothes. They're Edmund's old clothes, so they might be a little too big but I think they'll feel better than what you have," Peter directed.

James nodded and Peter led him upstairs to ransack Edmund's closet.

Edmund was in the kitchen when Lucy and Eustace returned. Lucy ran almost right in to Edmund, causing Edmund to spill the very full glass of water he was carrying over both of them.

"Sorry, Ed," Lucy apologized cheerfully, ringing the water out of her sleeve. Eustace stood in the background laughing.

"How was lunch?" Edmund asked.

"Well, it was great until Susan arrived. I didn't realize she was going to be eating there with her friends. She acted like she didn't even know me, Ed," tears brimmed at Lucy's eyes. Lucy had never been able to hide her feelings very well.

"I don't think it was you, Lucy. Peter and Susan had an argument before she left."

"Over what?" Lucy asked.

"Narnia?" Eustace guessed, but Edmund just shook his head.

"Apparently, an orphan boy asked Peter for some money today. Peter took him to lunch and offered to let him stay here. He has nowhere else to go. If you don't mind, Eustace, he'll stay in Peter's room with you."

Eustace nodded, and Lucy's face lit up with delight, always happy to meet a new person.

"What's his name and where is he now?" Lucy asked.

"His name is James. I think Peter's trying to find something in my closet that he can wear."

"Well, if they're done I'll go introduce myself. I need to change out of this wet dress anyway. You should go change to, Ed. Mom wouldn't like you dripping water all over her kitchen floor too much."

Lucy darted up the stairs, leaving a drenched Edmund in the kitchen. Water from his shirt fell on the floor and he had to admit Lucy had a point. If Mrs. Pevensie was to walk in the door to see water being dripped all over the floor, Edmund was sure a lecture would be directed right at him.

Edmund started up the stairs, but not before Eustace caught him by the sleeve of his shirt. Startled, he turned to his cousin.

"Look, I know why Peter did what he did. I would do the same thing. . . or at least I hope I would. But what about your parents?"

Edmund shrugged.

"I understand the questions, but Peter will find a way to make it work."

Peter ruffled through Edmund's clothing. The problem wasn't so much there weren't any clothes that fit James-almost everything Edmund had ever worn was stored in this closet- but actually finding any useful articles of clothing was another matter. Peter grabbed a handful of hangers and tossed them on the ground. Edmund wouldn't mind too much and Peter had every intention of being done before his mother could see the hurricane currently striking Edmund's closet.

James sat on Edmund's bed, swinging his legs over the side. He was beginning to warm up to Peter.

"Did you serve in the war?" James asked. Peter's face was turned away into a pile of clothes, which was probably a good thing. He wasn't sure how to answer. He hadn't served in the war, but he had been in several wars.

"No," He replied, deciding to go for the simple explanation.

"Oh," James replied, "I thought you had. You look like it."

"I do?"

James nodded. "They all look the same, all the men who fought. Older."

Older. Well, that was certainly right, Peter mused as he ruffled through the shirts. His hand came in to contact with an old green shirt. He held it up, then glanced back to James. It looked around the right size.

"Here," Peter tossed the shirt and a pair of pants from the bottom of the closet, "try these."

Just as James finished changing, there was a light knock at the door.

"Peter, it's me," Lucy's light voice drifted through the door. Peter reached over and opened the handle.

"Oh my," Lucy exclaimed once she saw the mess scattered over Edmund's room. Peter quickly stood up and started grabbing the scattered clothes, trying to push them back into some order in the closet.

"Don't tell mom," He whispered, causing Lucy to laugh again.

"I won't."

Peter hastily closed the closet door. He wasn't sure if he put everything right as he found it, but he figured that as long as nothing was on the floor, Edmund wouldn't mind. He just hadn't wanted their mother to find the mess.

Peter turned back to James.

"James, this is my youngest sister Lucy. Lucy this is James," Peter repeated the well-worn introduction. It was one he planned on saying quite a few times over the next few hours.

The sky outside had settled into an inky black, and everyone in the Pevensie household was starting to feel the pull of sleepiness. Everyone except Edmund, Peter, and Eustace had already gone to bed, but the three young men had ended up staying up much later than expected in Edmund's room. James was already asleep in Peter's room, and after a few hours Eustace joined him.

Edmund's bed stood stripped clean in the corner, all of the blankets and pillows having been torn from it hours before. The overwhelming amount of blankets and pillows made a comfortable nest on the floor for the two Pevensie brothers.

Peter yawned as Edmund started building what looked like a fort of pillows around them.

"Tiring day?" Edmund asked, already knowing the answer.

The room was dark, but small amounts of moonlight streamed through. Edmund saw the movement of Peter's golden head nodding.

"At least Mother and Father are all right with James staying here."

"I couldn't leave James by himself. When he came up to me in the park, I was just going to give him all the money I was carrying, but then he looked at me and his eyes. . . they reminded me of you, and when he told me his older brother had died, I knew I had to do something," Peter's voice cracked, "but I know he can't stay here forever. We have to find someplace for him to stay. I just don't know where."

Edmund, whose back had been facing Peter, quickly turned over with a look on his face that suggested he had an idea.

"What about the Professor? I know we can't all stay with him anymore, but he has enough room for James and I think he would be willing. It might also help James with schooling. I'm sure he's behind."

Edmund couldn't see the smile that grew over Peter's face but knew it was there.

"Why didn't I think of that? I'll write the Professor tomorrow morning. Ideas like that are why you're my favorite brother."

Edmund chuckled.

"Peter?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm your only brother."

"I know, Ed," Peter muttered, a peaceful sleep quickly overtaking him, "I know."

It was a week and a half before Peter received the Professor's reply. Yes, he had plenty of room for James and would love to help out. He had even bought two train tickets, one for James and one for Peter to accompany him.

Peter felt a strange mixture of relief and sadness while reading the letter. He was grateful to have found a more permanent home for James, but the young boy had started to truly open up to the Pevensie family. Even Susan had slowly taken a liking to the young boy. Often, at dinner, Mrs. Pevensie would give James a slightly larger portion than everyone else. Edmund's guess that James was behind on schooling had proven true, and Edmund had taken it upon himself to teach James as best he could. James was a quick learner and loved to read, two things he had in common with Edmund. Eustace would sometimes join these lessons. Lucy had taught James how to play chess, and he usually beat her. She was his favorite, besides Peter.

James had become very attached to Peter, treating him half as a surrogate father and half as another older brother. At night, when Peter, Edmund, Eustace, and sometimes Lucy gathered in Edmund's room to talk and keep each other company, James often curled up beside Peter, often falling asleep on his shoulder. He also asked only Peter questions- and he asked a lot of them. He mostly asked Peter questions about himself, but he also asked several about Edmund. Peter could sense that James missed his brother.

With a lump in his throat, Peter excused himself from the laughter going on in Edmund's room and made his way down the hall to his own room. James had said he was tired only a few minutes before, and Peter was counting on catching him before he went to sleep.

The boy was already underneath the covers of Peter's bed, but wide awake. He turned a tired gaze toward Peter, who softly walked across the floor and gently sat on the edge of his own bed.

"James?"

"Hmm?"

Peter swallowed. He hated doing this. He felt as if he was betraying the boy.

"You know how I said that you could stay here awhile?"

A look of shock and hurt passed over James' eyes.

"Are you going to throw me out?" He asked. His voice sounded brave but Peter knew that was only a thin veil.

"No, no," Peter reassured, "I would never do that. We would never do that. We all love having you here. There's just so many of us here, we thought it would be better for you to be around less people. One of our friends- mine, Susan, Edmund and Lucy's- would like for you to come with live with him. We call him Professor Kirke. He lives by himself in the country. He can also get you caught up on schooling. Is that all right with you? He's a very nice man."

James nodded, though moisture gathered around his eyes.

"I know I couldn't stay here forever, but I like this family," James admitted.

Peter threw one arm around James, enveloping the boy in a tight embrace.

"We like you, too, all of us. The Professor is a very dear friend. You'll still see us. He's like family, and you're family."

A smile lit up James' face.

"You mean that? I'm family?"

Peter nodded as he stood up to tuck the corners of the blankets around James.

"I do."

The air was still light and cool. A thin, wispy veil of fog hung over the train station. Right now, it was still very silent, but in a few minutes trains would start pulling in and the noise level would rise. Peter stood looking forward, trying to read the many signs that hung around the place. James stood by his side, quiet. Most of the family had told James goodbye that morning, and the emotions were weighing heavy on the young boy.

"Peter, would you be mad at me if I asked a question I've already asked?" James asked.

Peter, brought out of his thoughts, chuckled.

"No, ask away."

The boy fidgeted with the edge of his new coat Susan had bought him before he left.

"Remember when you told me I was family? You really meant that? I'm your brother?" James' cheeks turned red.

Peter turned to him and smiled, causing James' eyes to look up from the ground.

"Yes, I meant every word. You're my brother."

The young boy smiled shyly, then finally truly held out his hand toward Peter, who took it without words, and hand-in-hand, they walked forward as the train came around the bend.