High Queen Layla, It Has a Nice Ring to It

“No.” Layla whispered before tugging away from her sister and trying to run, but Yvainne had planned for that.

Had Edmund been following them?

He was there, waiting for her to run, so he caught her and pulled her back to the alcove. “Let me go! You ass! You bloody prick! Let me go!” She screamed as though someone was about to stab her.

“Jeez! Layla, calm down!” Edmund groaned as she kicked him in the shin.

“Layla, just let him talk to you. From what I’ve heard, he made a promise to finish a conversation when you guys came back.” Yvainne told her, reminding her of the promise he had made before the raid. She fell limp in Edmunds arms then.

“Goodness! I dunno why we ever thought she shouldn’t go to battle, she’s probably just bruised me for a year.” Edmund complained as he stopped beside Yvainne. She gave him a sympathetic look before turning her attention to her sister.

“Layla, you need to stop this. You’re being a child.” Yvainne told her with a stern tone, Layla flinched, she didn’t wanna hear anything about children right now. “Are you going to behave?”

Layla nodded and Edmund let her go. Then Yvainne took Edmund’s hand, and they left. She looked down at the floor, determined not to meet his eyes.

“Layla...”

She wouldn’t—No, she couldn’t look at him. If she did, she’d break down.

She’d tell him.

“Layla, please...” He sounded choked up. She couldn’t help the reflex. She had to see if he was crying.

There they were. The tears.

And she broke. “Oh, Peter.” She sobbed and ran to him, wrapping her arms around him, his going around her as well.

“Layla.” She looked at him and he brought one hand up to her face, wiping her tears with his thumb. “I know I don’t remember how we were before, and I may never remember, but there is one thing that has never changed.” He told her wiping another tear. “And that’s that I love you. I have been in love with you for years. And I know you probably don’t want to deal with any guys after what happened with Dylan but—”

She silenced him by pushing herself onto her tip-toes till her lips met his.

~*~

“Are you two alright now?” Lucy asked an hour later as she came to check up on Layla and Peter—well... to make sure Layla hadn’t killed her brother, but still.

“Yeah.” Peter told her with a smile. Layla hid her face in Peter’s shirt until she heard Lucy’s next words.

“Good because you might want to come see this.” She said urgently. Layla sprung up, and Peter stood as well, unwilling to let her go after he had just gotten her again.

It had been a blissful hour. Layla had told him more about their past together, how he helped her get over the rape and how she had been by his side the whole time they had ruled. She told him how he had proposed to her, and how there had been princesses from near and far at their wedding, and half of them had tried flirting with him the whole night and she knew for sure that he loved her because he never once gave them a second glance. When he had asked her about the second half, she just smiled and said, “They were crying over the loss of such an amazing man’s bachelor-ness.”

What she had yet to figure out is how he had forgotten Jared. She had left before him hadn’t she?

She knew the answer as soon as she began to follow Lucy.

She had left before them, but she had been with them their last day. They had been out in the forest looking for the white stag, and she had wiped his memory of her, of Jared, of their time together, and Susan had said that she had left her horn on the saddle the day they went back.

When they were hunting the stag.

“Now I must ask... Did I have a nephew?” Lucy asked.

Layla stopped in her tracks, causing Peter to stop as well.

“What are you talking about Lu? You know we never had any children last time we were here.” Peter said simply. Layla felt a pang in her heart. That was the one thing she hadn’t told him.

“Then explain this!” She said pointing to something beside her. It was then that Layla saw it.

Here lies,

Prince Jared Tumnus Pevensie

1005-1015

Beloved Son, Nephew, Prince
May he forever be remembered as
the prince who fought until the end
to protect the legacy of his family
and to protect his family home.

May he rest in peace.

Layla let a sob escape from her chest causing Peter to give her a curious glance before she fell to her knees before the stone that marked her sons grave. Then she was sobbing as her hand came to rest upon the stone. Peter cradled her until her sobs calmed down.

“Go get Susan and Edmund, Lu.” Layla told Lucy between hiccups. She nodded and left and Layla let out another sob.

“Layla, what’s wrong?” Peter asked her, but it didn’t help her. She just shook her head before turning to the stone.

“Do you have a knife or”—sniff—“something?”

Peter nodded and handed her a pocket knife. She leaned forward and began to carve out some words below the last words. As she carved, she sang a song.

“Over In Killarney,”—M—“Many years ago,”—o—“Me Mother sang a song to me,”—R—“In tones so sweet and low;”—i—“Just a simple little ditty,”—d—“In her good old Irish way,”—i—“And I'd give the world if she could sing,”—r—“That song to me today.”—e—“Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li,”—B—“Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Hush now don't you cry!”—e—“Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li,”—a—“Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,”—g—“That's an Irish lullaby.” She finished the lullaby as she pulled back from the stone, with tears streaming down her face.

“Mo Ridire Beag?” Peter asked pronouncing it all wrong. Layla gave a chuckle.

“It’s pronounced ‘Ma rihjeereh bayeck’. It’s ‘My Little Knight’ in Gaelic. I always called him that whenever he’d fall ill. And every night we’d tuck him into bed, and I’d sing him that lullaby, and he’d go right to sleep... or”—she let out a giggle and wiped at her tears—“at least he would until he was about 5, then I’d only sing it to him when he got sick, but he was always a little trooper. He never wanted to miss a training session with you, but he could never sneak around me if he was sick. He always hated that about me. He was a Sorcerer, still 7 years short of having all of his powers, but he could still practice. I’d help him out, and that was what we’d do when he couldn’t train with you and your family. He was so beautiful. I remember thinking the day he was born that he was so perfect.” Peter looked scared now.

“Layla?” He tried to get her attention before she began talking again. She turned to look at him with a few tears on her cheeks still. “Who is he?”

“He was ours, Peter. He was our son.”

~*~

“We had a nephew?!” Edmund exclaimed, when she told them. She laughed and nodded.

“Why’d we name him Jared Tumnus? Why not Peter Jr. Edmund Pevensie or something like that?” Peter asked me as he lay his arm around her shoulders and grasped her hand.

“We agreed it was a better name. I wanted to name him Jared, after my lost brother. You chose the middle name, because Tumnus was the one who found me on the beach where I had passed out with only a sheet wrapped around me in the middle of Winter.” She told him. He nodded.

“How’d he die?” Susan asked softly running her hand over the words on the stone. Layla watched with a sad smile.

“He fought against the Telmarines. Aslan said he was one of the last standing, before a soldier mistook him for a dwarf and killed him. He was definitely our son. Refused to retreat and leave his home, and he wouldn’t let them take him when the battle began.” She gave a soft giggle, before turning to Peter. “You would always tell me that he was the best gift I’d ever given you. I felt horrible when I removed us from all of your memories.”

Then something connected. “Oh my... It’s my fault he died.” She muttered. “If I hadn’t erased him from your memory, you would’ve stayed with him, because you wouldn’t have forgotten him!” She exclaimed burying her head into her knees.

“Layla, it was our destiny to return so that all of this could happen. I think it was more of Aslan’s doing than yours.” Lucy told her.

“And besides, that baby wasn’t really yours...”

“ED!”

Layla looked at him shocked. “What do you mean?”

“Well, what do you think would’ve happened had you taken him back into our world?” He asked. “If you went back to your age, what do you think would’ve happened to him?”

“He would’ve disappeared.”

“Exactly. So in the end it was a good thing for you to do. And besides, he died for us, he used what we had taught him and almost won. We should be celebrating that you brought up such an amazing son rather than crying over his death.”

Edmund had a point and Layla knew it. “And besides,” Lucy smiled knowingly, “You can always have more babies in our world.”

That set everyone off in a laughing fit, Layla’s face turned bright red as did Peters, but he pulled her closer nonetheless.

“He had such beautiful eyes. They were green like yours...” He said.

Everyone stopped.

“And he had Peter’s blonde hair.” Susan added.

“And he had the Pevensie nose.” Edmund remembered.

“And he had Layla’s temper, Peter’s determination, and he got the stubbornness from both of you.” Lucy told them with a smile.

Layla stared in shock.

“You guys remember.” Layla laughed in disbelief. She was giddy, They remembered!

“What’s going on here?” came a voice from down the make-shift hall. Layla smiled as Yvainne approached the small group, Caspian, Carissa, and Jared not far behind her. Layla motioned them over to join the group, and they all complied as she pointed to the stone.

“Is that what I think it is?” Carissa asked his eyes widening. Layla laughed at his disbelief.

“That is your nephew’s headstone. I don’t know where he’s actually buried, but this is here, so I’d imagine he’s somewhere around here.” Layla told him. Jared smiled as he noted the name on it.

“Aw, Layla! You named him after me?” He teased, flattered but having to make a joke. It was hard not to be flattered, but Layla had to roll her eyes as she burst out into laughter, a rouge tear falling down her cheek.

“Don’t let it go to your head. I would’ve named him Carissa if he’d been a girl.” Layla told him. Peter couldn’t help but notice that her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and pulled her closer to him, until she was sitting between his legs, her back resting upon his chest. He knew it was painful to think of their child, it had become hard for him as soon as he had begun remembering. Everything was coming back to him now. He could remember the first time he saw her, their first kiss, and he remembered one time when they went for a ride and had picnic in the forest. He remembered the panic that ensued when an attack was rumored, and how he had gotten up in front of his kingdom, with his wife and son at his side, and his brother and sisters on the other, and dispersed that rumor, calmed the panic.

Layla could almost hear his mind running at a thousand miles an hour as everyone went back to what they had been doing, and touching his hand allowed some of her magic to flow into him, calming him down. He smiled at her, thankful that she was trying to help, and stood up, brushing himself off before offering her his hand. She took it and happily they walked back to what he had been using as a room.

Where they spent the rest of the day talking about their past, and reliving it together.

~*~

Meanwhile, Caspian had branched off from everyone. He found himself on the ledge again, this time with tears in his eyes. They really were monsters, he thought, his ancestors. Not only had they attacked the palace at Cair Paravel which had been standing there long before the king and queens had come to Narnia, but they had killed Peter and Layla’s son, along with many other people.

Aside from the fact that he was attacking them with the Narnian’s, he was just a boy. He had been only ten when they had killed him, and though she had said they thought he was a dwarf, he knew she was probably wrong. He would bet his title that they knew exactly who he was and still killed him.

Then he began thinking about what he had been told by Miraz.

His father had been murdered, by his own brother.

Caspian’s thoughts become a bunch of mumbo-jumbo as he thought about everything. Soon through his peripherals he saw Doctor Cornelius sit beside him.

“Why did you never tell me about my father?” Caspian asked him. His tone hurt, but his thoughts more curious than anything else. Cornelius looked at him before turning out to face the forest as well.

“My mother was a Black Dwarf from the Northern Mountains.” Cornelius told him, Caspian looked at him, his attention caught. “I risked my life all these years so that one day…” Caspian looked out again, stunned by this new revelation, but still waiting for what the Doctor had left to say. “…you might be a better king than those before you.” Cornelius finished.

Caspian looked down, sadness overtaking his features. “Then I have failed you.” He said quietly, the depression oozing in his voice. Cornelius glanced up at him, knowing he had to help him see that he wasn’t a failure. He had to help him see that, in fact, he was the complete opposite.

“Everything I told you… everything I didn’t…” He began a knowing glint in his wise old eyes. “…it was only because I believe in you.” He stated, catching Caspian’s attention again. “You have a chance to become the most noble contradiction in history.” Then Cornelius looked out as if he could see being written in a book already, Caspian, “The Telmarine who saved Narnia.” Caspian followed his gaze and in the background Carissa smiled. Cornelius turned to her and winked as she nodded her thanks before walking inside.

Her prince would be back to normal in a few hours, all she had to do now was wait.