Disclaimer: All characters belong to C.S. Lewis, song title/lyrics belong to The Beatles.
Author's Note: For one, I can't believe that no one's done this songfic before! Also, mind, a lot of this is COMPLETELY OOC for Lucy Pevensie. But Lucy as an LSD addict was interesting to write to say the least. I wanted to draw away from the negative connotations of addictions and focus this on her love of Narnia, and how the drug let her go back. And also draw a thin line between Lucy Pevensie and Queen Lucy the Valiant. ALSO: I know that it is not likely that you could die from an LSD overdose, but it CAN be a catalyst for a heart attack (by way of adrenaline).
Also, the different between 'regular text' and 'italicized text' is to signify what is going on 'in Narnia/or the past' and what is going on 'in our world/or in real time'. In case there's confusion about what's going on as well, Lucy in this story is in her late teens, 16 or 17. Peter, who feels the most responsible for her calls a psychiatric clinic (hence the collectors).
Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds - by The Beatles
Picture yourself in a boat on a river
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies
Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly
A girl with kaleidoscope eyes
Cellophane flowers of yellow and green
Towering over your head
Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes
And she's gone
Lucy in the sky with diamonds
I follow her down to a bridge by a fountain
Where rocking horse people eat marshmallow pies
Everyone smiles as you drift past the flowers
That grow so incredibly high
Newspaper taxis appear on the shore
Waiting to take you away
Climb in the back with your head in the clouds
And you're gone
Lucy in the sky with diamonds
Picture yourself on a train in a station
With plasticine porters with looking glass ties
Suddenly someone is there at the turnstile
The girl with kaleidoscope eyes
Lucy in the sky with diamonds
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a Queen. The Valiant Queen. She was kind and beautiful and loved by hundreds. From the snares of Lantern Waste to the glittering Eastern Sea she reigned in peace and prosperity with her elder siblings: The Just King, the Gentle Queen and the Magnificent King.
She spent years and years living in the loveliest of fashions. Dresses of silk and gossamer, golden chalices with the sweetest wine, halls of glass and gold, bright dawns and soft nights. There was no fear, no pain, no grief, no worries. She was not shackled by the weight of the world, but lifted above it in its loving arms.
"No!" A strangled voice said, coming from a blank space to the right. "That's my sister! You can't do this!"
"Su, we want what's good for her —"
"Damn you, Edmund, don't you dare."
And then by unhappy chance, this life was stolen from her. The light and the dream were gone. She was suddenly put back into another place, another time. Not an inch nor a yard of it felt right, and yet everyone around her failed to notice. Her family was blind to her pained expressions, deaf to her tearless cries.
In this world, everyone is so wrapped up in their own pain that no one else has the strength to care for another's. The Queen could not be buried in the young, unworthy flesh. She yearned for that release, for that breath of fresh air, the touch of evergreen grass, the taste of cool, precious water.
"Ms. Pevensie," A grave voice floated in. "Please try to understand. Your sister is very ill. She needs help. We can provide her this and so much more."
"C'mon Susan, just let her go." Something landed. Flesh against flesh. It was shocking to hear — Susan being violent.
"How can you even consider this?" That once gentle voice growled. Then there were arms. Warm, cradling and altogether familiar. "It's Lucy, for god's sake!"
The shell that contained the Valiant Queen grew, but the creature also grew ever more restless. Then it happened. The sand underneath her feet, the smell of woodland, the rough stone. It was not the same when she had left, but it was home. Her heart leapt with joy, her mind eased for a while. She shed a tear for the friends that had been lost, the ones she loved dearly and never had a chance to say goodbye.
They came back on the verge of another war. They were called to be the saviors of the old world, to cast out the evil that had invaded their homes and ruled for an age. The Queen never lost faith, never held back and she felt all that satisfaction, that pride, that truth that she had only ever dreamed of... as in came in the form of a lion's purr. Disappointment fell once more when she learned that again she would not be able to hold on. The lies they told when they said, this was not home . . .
"Lu?" No answer yet. She was falling asleep on the river South, the sun beaming proudly down upon her. It was a faint memory of a time long ago, a better time. But the current was calmly pulling her down and she would not be bothered with opening her eyes but breathed out, "Oh Susan. The trees, they're... still dancing."
"She's completely off her kilter," the hard voice mumbled. The arms tightened protectively.
"How in the hell can you be so callous about this? You're still an idiot child," A snarl.
A miracle happened. The Queen relented, letting this shell encase her. She locked away her memories deep, only to be extracted when she had most need of them. Living in this world became easier, day by day, step by step. But that tiny glimmer of hope would never be extinguished, it refused to leave even though it no longer shadowed her every thought.
Then once more. She felt the sea's rumble and saw the expanse of clearest, bluest sky overhead. Old friends, new friends. New adventures. But something in the back of her mind made it known that this was wrong. Was it that she had grown so accustomed in foreign lands that she could not freely give herself to this world anymore? What had changed? How could she ever go back to the way she used to be? The answer this time came in a lion's purr. That she would never return again . . .
"Go, Edmund," a deeper voice said. "Go home. I'll handle it from here."
"Peter?" that warm, tear-stricken voice panicked. Then she was taken from those arms. She left the picnic with the centaurs and the fauns behind opening her eyes. It was dim. Mostly black and white and she wasn't sure she wanted to watch. That gentle face searched her own and those soft hands tugged at her own arms, her clothes, everything in reach.
"Susan, please," That authoritative voice again. His face was a mask of sorrow and decision. He pulled the hands away from her, even as she stretched toward them again. Thick arms like iron bars restrained her, were dragging her from that space of warmth and safety.
"Peter! You can't let them do this!" Her sister wailed, writhing in their brother's strong grip. "She's just a girl, please!"
"We will be notifying you, Mr. Pevensie, as soon as we get her to the facility."
"No! Lucy! Lucy!"
Despite her best efforts to save face, to be strong like the Magnificent, to be wise like the Gentle and bold like the Just, the youngest Queen could not suppress the pain. It was like a tear in her chest, growing wider and wider until she was sure all of her insides would come spilling out. Her dreams were bare of the magic and the mystery they once held, her heart empty of the love and the faith.
She was surprised that bitter could turn to sweet. That ice could melt so smoothly. It spread from her lips, to her throat, into her very blood. It was like flying, like having cotton clouds in her head. And for a moment, she was home again. Under the ageless trees, on a bed of satin, and dancing to the greatest music ever to touch her ears.
A moment seemed to stretch beyond time. It could sometimes feel like a week, a month, a year. But it was still only ever a moment. The world eventually crashed in on her, wracking her with its suffering. The Queen stole a moment away every chance she got. She craved that escape, that bliss, that freedom...
She curled up on hard leather when the box of steel began moving. She shut her eyes against the cold, bleak world — against the image of her brother and sister. She panted, her hands pressed against her pounding heart. She felt the tears slide down her cheeks, but she didn't understand it. The sadness was bewildering.
"Is she all right, sir?"
"Yeah, just a bit dozy. No worries."
She felt this impulse to throw herself out of the door. Run back and apologize, shed her pain. Wrap herself up in those favored arms and be held for all time. To feel a moment of that love they used to share. To see that peace in their eyes and be home again. If it was ever really home to begin with.
"To the underground, mate."
It was an elixir, a pungent, reality-bending nectar. With it in her system, she could go anywhere, do anything. Not only could she be in the worlds she loved, but she could build and create and change everything. Like painting a picture and making it come alive. But that fantasy came with a price.
She was finding that she needed more and more of it to sustain the dream world. That she was slipping away faster and faster from it. It became more than just joy, it became a need. A deep, searching hunger. It was affecting the world she was living; she could see it tearing away and fragmenting with her waking eye.
But this was a sacrifice she had to make. Because no matter that pain she would have to endure, the sorrow, or the madness... she had this escape. One moment, for the Queen, outweighed a lifetime.
"She don't look so good, John." She sank against cloth seats, her head resting against the cool pane of glass. She could see the steam floating around outside, the swarms of blurry people.
"She'll be alright, let her sober up a bit."
But she was not all right. Everything was wrong. Her throat was burning, all the way down to the pit of her stomach. Her mouth was dry, her tongue like sandpaper. Every inch of her skin felt like it was crawling and it was cold and slick. The weight of her eyelids was hard to lift. The very worst part was her chest; it felt as though it were caving in, pressing uncomfortably against her racing heart.
Had the world's suffering turned on her to make her feel some sort of physical pain? Somewhere, she knew that it wouldn't end. She had the sensation of being dumped in ice water over and over again. She couldn't control the shakes and shivers. She tried to focus on one thing, center her mind. The crowds moved like ocean waves, to and fro, making her all the more dizzy. Then she saw him.
If she had only seen what she needed to see, things would have been different. Instead of clinging to the lessons she had learned, the experiences she had been through, she clung to fleeting things such as time and place. She hadn't seen that she was transcendent, that she could be the bright and beautiful Valiant Queen in this world as much as the other. That age and land and friends have little to do with what was really inside you.
Lost in her own pain, she had given up the very thing that was all-seeing, all-healing. She could not imagine that he was as much in her world as she was in his. And for this, the comfort came too late, too suddenly and she was wiped away.
It was only a passing glance — but she was sure it was him. A shake of golden fur. Those bright, all-knowing eyes. Then she couldn't contain the hurt any longer - it felt as though it would burst right through her chest. Tears spurt from her eyes as she slumped against the seat, her limbs going numb.
"John! Dear god... find a doctor! Quickly!"
"Is there a doctor in the car?" A voice called from some distance.
"Hang on there, Ms. Pevensie," Her heart sped to an incredible speed under a heavy hand. She felt it jump, the pattern changing, and then it ceased altogether. She felt the blood in her very veins slowing to a stop.
"We're losing her, John!" Her body grew more and more cold, her eyelids sliding shut. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't even think. And yet... it didn't matter.
Because she was being lifted. She was being held. The pain was settling, slowly disappearing with every passing second. The Queen saw with her own eyes a world, a new world, somewhere between where she was and the edge of the universe. And by her side, the Great Lion Aslan stood, as tall and majestic as she could remember.
He was leading her to this new place, to his country beyond the sea. To her understanding, nowhere else had been 'home'. And death, this time, came as a lion's roar...
And she was gone.
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