High Queen Layla, It Has a Nice Ring to It

Everything they tell you about dying is true.

The world had faded into black one second, and the next second her life was flashing before her eyes.

The first thing she remembered was from when she was about a year and a half old, her mum’s belly was no longer flat but swollen and every time she tried to rest her head against it, there seemed to be a movement from the inside. Layla had gotten upset over it unsure what was going on when her mother picked her up and told her that there was another baby in there, though Layla still didn’t understand what that really meant she did remember her mother’s next words.

“I think you and your little sister are going to have quite the friendship, love.”

The next thing she remembered was her parents bringing Yvainne home, and Layla calling her “Eevay” because she couldn’t quite pronounce the name correctly at the mere age of 2 years old.

There were various memories of Jared taking her outside and playing with her while Carissa kept Yvainne busy with her dolls, Jared teaching her different things, Carissa as well, Layla passing these things on to Yvainne.

The happier days of Layla’s life when her family was happy and whole and it seemed like life would always be like a big ball of sunshine.

Then Jared and Carissa’s disappearance.

Layla remembered leaving for school that morning confused because she was only being accompanied by Yvainne. Her father told her not to worry, Carissa and Jared had just had to leave a bit earlier than them for school.

She soon found this to be a lie.

“Carissa you need to get her to Aslan and the Pevensies.”

Layla remembered coming home with an 8 year old Yvainne and finding the Police outside of their house. She quickly rushed inside with her younger sister to find her mother and father on the couch being questioned by the police. Her mother was sobbing while her father was holding her close.

“When was the last time you saw the two of them?” The policeman was asking them.

“Yesterday morning when they left for school. When they didn’t come home with the other girls we assumed they had gone over to a friend’s house or something of that sort, but at about 8 o’clock we began to suspect that wasn’t the case. We would’ve come to you sooner, but we know the policy is 24 hours.” Her father responded. That was when Layla picked up on what was going on. She dropped her school satchel, which caught the attention of her parents and the policemen.

“Hello, girls. Would you mind if we asked you—wait, come back!”

Layla hadn’t given the policeman the chance to finish his sentence before she had sprinted out the door. She knew all of Cari and Jay’s favorite spots to hang out, they had to be in one of those, right? They couldn’t have run off, or worse—

Layla wouldn’t let herself think that. “Cari?!” Layla called out as she searched, “Jay?!”

She was gone for hours before she finally exhausted herself and gave up. She found the spot where Jared and Carissa had taken her once she was old enough to go out and about with them, the first place they had taken her—aside from their backyard—and sat down. It was a field in the woods behind their house. She called their names once more before laying in the grass and curling in on herself, sobs racking her body as a feeling washed over her.

Her brother and sister hadn’t just disappeared—

They were gone.

They weren’t coming back any time soon.

Her next memory was from 2 years later, it had been the first time she had truly felt something since her brother and sister had disappeared from her life.

Her infamous manner’s class stunt.

"Young women such as yourself are not to speak unless spoken to. They are there to make sure their husbands are happy and—" The prude woman told her with a snobby look. Layla scoffed.

"Excuse me?"

"Young Ladies do not interrupt, have you no--" Before the woman could finish her sentence Layla interrupted her again.

"Bullshit. That's what this is! It's bullshit!" Layla shouted throwing her napkin on the table. "I don't give a fuck what you say! My purpose in this world is not to make sure anyone but myself is happy!"

"I beg your pardon!"

"No. You don't receive my pardon. Hell! You’re not getting our money either, because all this shit your teaching is useless! Get off your lazy arse and do something with your life." Layla told the woman. Then she walked out with her head held high.

"Well done." Came a new voice as she stepped out into the hall.

Layla turned to see a boy about her age standing beside the door.

"Who are you?!" Layla asked the boy taking a defensive stance.

"Peter Pevensie. My little sister is with another person having her own manner lessons, and when I heard your little stint I came to check it out."

Layla looked at him for a second, examining the way he stood and the smirk on his face. Within the next second her fist connected with his stomach and he was doubled over.

"Creep." Layla muttered as she walked away.

That had been the day Layla had met him, that had been the first time she had actually felt something since her brother and sister had left and it wasn’t because of the lady she had told off, it was because of him. It seemed like so long ago.

The next thing she remembered was finding out she was a witch. She and her family had been on a trip in Ireland a year later, and Layla had started to feel again, she was doing a lot better than she had been in years, all jumpstarted by meeting Peter Pevensie. She was walking along the street behind her parents and sister when she felt a hand on her arm.

“You have a gift.” An elderly woman rasped.

“Pardon?” Layla asked politely turning towards the woman.

“You have magic in you. It’s faint but that’s because you’re so young. It’ll grow. Here.” She rustled around her bag for something before pulling out a book. “Take this. Read it. Keep it to yourself.” She demanded shoving the book into Layla’s hands. “You’re going to be a great sorceress one day.” She told her before smiling and shooing her off. Layla walked off and the next time she had turned around the lady was gone. Later that night Layla began to read the book and learned more about herself than she had ever thought possible.

The next memory she had was her father being drafted for the war. She had stayed strong for Yvainne but she was torn up on the inside. She had a very bad feeling, and her feelings were rarely wrong. She felt like she wasn’t going to see her father again. When he left there was a note of finality to her goodbye and she made sure to tell him that she loved him.

A year later the letters stopped coming.

That was about the time that she had met Dylan.

She had some happy memories of the two of them together, but mostly what she remembered was the end.

She had gone to spend the weekend with him since they were being sent away thanks to the blitz. She had expected it to be a nice, romantic weekend with her boyfriend before they had to be separated for a few months due to this war that was raging on around them. What she hadn’t expected was for him to try to have sex with her and then for him to smack her when she refused.

“If you didn’t want to sleep with me then why have you been teasing me you slag?” He shouted at her pushing her into a wall.

“Dylan please stop. What’s gotten into you?” Layla pleaded with him.

“What’s gotten into me is that you’re a bloody slag and you’ve been tempting me since day one. Well I’m finally giving into temptation.” He growled ripping open her shirt.

She had suppressed the rest of the evening until she had escaped. Running through the forest with nothing but a sheet to cover her naked body she made her way to that same clearing from all those years ago before collapsing in a heap on the ground.

The next time she had awoken she was in Narnia.

“Your Highness! Lucy! Susan! Anybody! Please help!”

“Hold on, Layla! We’re gonna get you fixed up.”

“Tumnus! What’s the commotion?” A different voice replied.

“King Peter! I found this Daughter of Eve on the Beach. I’m not sure how long she was out there, and I believe she needs medical attention.”

“Hand her here.”

Layla wasn’t really awake at this point more like she was in a dream.

The next time she awoke she was clothed and someone was sitting beside the bed she was in holding her hand.

She quickly shot up in surprise before looking at who was holding her hand.

“Who the bloody hell are you?!” she screeched.

“Huh?” was the reply as he sat up in shock.

“I know you! You’re that boy from manners classes. What did you do to me? Where am I?” she questioned quickly.

“Slow down! I didn’t do anything to you but help heal you. You were injured pretty badly when our servant found you outside. You’re in Cair Paravel, the castle of my siblings and I.” the boy replied.

After that there were various things she remembered about her time in the castle reading with Susan, training with Edmund, playing with Lucy, and flirting with Peter.

Then one night he invited her out to the Beach on their first date. It was a picnic and she had the most lovely time.

The next thing she knew he was proposing.

“I guess you’re wondering why I’ve requested your presence.” Peter stated staring out at the water as she came to stand beside him.

“Just a bit. What’s going on?” Layla asked him softly, glancing out at the water as well. Trying to figure out what was happening.

“It was this exact spot that Tumnus found you that year. It was this spot that we had our first date, for lack of a better word, and it’s this spot that I want to ask you about something very important.

“I remember how I felt before you came along. I felt a bit lost. Like my life had no direction. But then we found you and suddenly I saw something. I saw hope. You were my hope, and I don’t know what my life would’ve been like without you these last few years. Even if we hadn’t started our courtship, I think my life would’ve been better with you than with without you.” Peter paused his rambling to take a deep breath and calm his racing heart. Layla was looking at him with curious eyes.

“Peter, what are you saying?” She asked him, though she had a hunch about where this was going.

“I love you, Layla. I love you so much, and I can’t imagine my life without you by my side.” He said before turning to face her and getting down on one knee, “Will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife? My Queen?”

The ring he pulled out looked antique and nestled in the middle of the small diamonds was her favorite gemstone, an Emerald. Tears began to trickle from her eyes as she nodded. “Yes. Of course, Peter. Of course I will!”

Their marriage was in the same spot as all of their romantic moments, the beach. The sun wasn’t too hot on her in her dress, since she had gone with a lighter material than was expected of her normally. He had looked handsome, dressed fully in his King attire, the two had been quite the spectacle.

A few weeks later, after almost constant sickness and the missing of a period, Layla received special news.

“Peter, love.” Layla called running into the Throne room. Any other day she wouldn’t barge in on a meeting of the council like this, but this wasn’t any other day.

“Layla? What is it? Is everything alright?” Peter asked urgently, standing immediately and making his way to his wife’s side to check for any ailments that may be afflicting her.

“Everything is more than alright love, but I need to talk to you.” Layla told him with a large smile.

“Right now, Layla? In case you haven’t noticed I’m kind of in the middle of a council meeting, so if you don’t mind—”

“Alright, fine then.” Layla interrupted him. “I’m pregnant.”

“HELP! SOMEONE HELP, PLEASE!”

“What? Oh my—Layla that’s—I can’t believe it!” He exclaimed picking her up and spinning her around. He kissed her long and hard and they were so happy.

The birth of their son, him growing up, her leaving, her life at school the next year it all flashed before her eyes.

“Layla, no, you can’t leave me. I need you, I love you.”

And then a bright white light flashed.

~*~

“HELP! SOMEONE HELP, PLEASE!” Carissa shouted as she made it to the river.

Peter took one look at Layla’s bloody body and was off in seconds. “Lay—LAYLA!” his voice broke as he raced to her side. Pulling her body off of the horse, Peter lay her gently on the banks of the river leaning over her to check her heart beat. As he did so he felt her breath in and out one last time before she stopped completely. Tears were streaming down his cheeks at this point as he wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her into his arms as he tried to convince her to come back to him.

“Layla, no, you can’t leave me. I need you, I love you.” He whispered pleadingly in her ear as Lucy made her way to Layla’s lifeless body, tipping the bottle of her healing potion over Layla’s mouth.

Peter’s sobs racked his body as he waited for Layla to return to him. When there was no sign of life returning to her they turned into violent crying, with shouts of grief leaving his body as he pleaded with her to come back to him. He pulled closer to his body, rocking her back and forth. Everyone surrounding them was watching with tear filled eyes as the realization settled upon them all.

She was dead.

Layla was dead.

Their High Queen was dead.

Until she wasn’t.

With a gasp she awoke from her dead like state, startling Peter silent before he registered what was happening. With a noise of pure relief and joy he pulled her as close as physically possible to him and squeezed her tight, his tears returning with a vengeance, but as tears of joy rather than tears of grief.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again.” He mumbled into her ear as she slowly wrapped her arms around him in return. She pulled back slightly and he kissed her forhead, her eyes, her cheeks, her nose, all over his face until he kissed her lips. “I thought you left me.” He told her resting his forehead against hers.

“You really thought you could get rid of me that easily?” She replied with a slight rasp, and a small fond smile on her face as he chuckled through his tears, kissing her forehead once again.

“Layla! You gave us quite a fright.” Aslan’s voice boomed from where he was stood.

“Wasn’t quite sure I’d make it myself, sir.” She replied with a small chuckle.

“Well I’m glad that you did. I fear Peter may have done something rash had you not.” Aslan said, emphasizing her importance in the King’s life. Layla looked back into Peter’s eyes, and found herself remembering all of the feelings she had last time they were here at once, all of the love and adoration she held for him.

“Well, sir, I promise if he had I would have come back to life just to remind him that he had more to live for. Then I would’ve killed him for thinking otherwise.” She said with a smirk. Peter let out a chuckle before kissing her again.

The others let the two have their moment as Aslan changed the subject. “Now, where is this dear little friend you’ve told me so much about?” He directed to Lucy and Yvainne. Everyone turned to Trumpkin who was still across the river helping the soldiers organize. When he realized that he was being stared down, he motioned for another to take over his job before making his way to the crowd and kneeling before Aslan once he reached them. Aslan roared at him making him jump.

“Do you see him now?” Lucy asked him smartly after he was done. Trumpkin took a deep breath and laughed at that as he stared up at Aslan.

At this point Layla and Peter had regained their footing again, and were giggling from the side watching Trumpkin. As the other began to reorganize once more, Peter turned to Layla and pulled her to him. One hand placed softly upon her cheek, the other wrapped around her waist, Peter gazed into her eyes and with a fond smile requested, “Marry me.”

Layla laughed at him, “Peter, we’re only 17. I hardly think we’re of age to get married.” She tried to reason with him.

“I don’t care. I want to spend the rest of my life knowing that you’ll be by my side at every twist and every turn. I don’t ever want to awaken again with the thought that you might be waking up next to another. And I’m not saying we have to get married now, I just want to know that we will eventually get married; that you will be my bride when we are ready. Please, Layla, I couldn’t imagine a life without you. You’re ever—”

Layla cut him off with a kiss. “You talk too much you idiot. Yes, when we are of age I will marry you.”

Peter, giddy from her answer, picked her up and spun her connecting their mouths once more and kissing her deeply. “I will get you a ring when we get back, I promise. It’ll be magnificent, fit for a queen.”

Layla pecked his lips with a giggle, “I love you, you idiot.”

“I love you too.”