Title: TBA
Author: fbi-woman
Rating: K / PG or whatever for now
Type: His Dark Materials, pre-trilogy
Spoilers: You should probably read The Golden Compass first unless you already know the history between Marisa, Lyra, and Asriel.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and I'm not claiming to. This is just an original work inspired by a book series.
Summary: A story about Marisa Coulter's past. Will eventually be MC/LA.
A/N: Except for a couple little poems, this is my first real HDM fic. I am not an expert on the books at all, but I did my best to check my facts so I wouldn't contradict what information we're given. The only thing I have changed is that the descriptions of the character will be based on how they appear in the movie. Please no flaming, I'm doing my best.
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Alone in her room, twelve year old Marisa Madsen sat on her bed listening to bustling activity in the hallway outside. Her daemon switched between forms restlessly, sharing her boredom. Without a sound, she tiptoed over to the door in her nightgown and bare feet, pressing her ear against the wood.
"Go and look outside" she whispered.
Her daemon instantly became a tiny brown mouse, slipping through the crack between the door and the floor. Watching carefully for hurried passing feet, he scurried down the hallway until he felt that familiar pull marking his limit. She wanted him to keep going, this he knew, but he hated to cause her pain. After a moment's hesitation, he continued forward, fighting the invisible force, but it was no use. He saw a servant turn sharply at the end of the hallway and realized he was much too far away from their destination to get there without Marisa. Turning around, he raced back to the door as fast as his tiny feet could carry him and slid back under. Safely inside, he changed into a dog and licked her face apologetically.
"You didn't see anything?"
He shook his head sadly.
She stared down at her feet dejectedly but did not leave the door.
"I guess we could –"
A sharp bark cut her short.
"Shhh! You'll get us in trouble!" After an apologetic whimper from her daemon, she continued. "I don't see why we can't just go pretend to look for mother and father, and if we happen to see something while we're looking, we see something."
He had a bad feeling about this. They had debated this plan many times recently and he knew it was only a matter of time before curiosity got the better of both of them.
"Come on, I know you want to, and how much trouble can it really cause? I promise we won't be gone long."
Grudgingly he nodded, giving in to her darkest desires as he always did. Marisa loved to see how far she could push both herself and others. He shrank into a sparrow, flying up to perch on her shoulder while she slowly opened the door.
Looking both ways, she found the path was clear, and they darted down the hall, racing for the end. Marisa's heart was pounding with exhilaration. They were so close now. She was about to see what had been kept from her for twelve whole years. And then it all came crashing down. The door to the downstairs kitchen swung open, stopping her in her tracks. Her father stood only steps from her, holding a large silver tray with a shiny, round lid.
"Where are you off to in such a hurry? I thought you supposed to be in bed."
"I was looking for mom!" she blurted.
He raised an eyebrow skeptically, "really?"
"Honest I was!"
"Hmm…" he studied her for a minute, "well alright then. She's downstairs."
"Okay, thanks."
Neither person moved. Marisa realized her father intended to watch her go downstairs, not believing her quite as much as he claimed. Suppressing a sigh, she smiled innocently at him and skipped down the stairs into the hot, steamy kitchen. Stumbling through the whirlwind of bodies and carts, she finally caught the edge of her mother's skirt.
"Hey honey, I thought you went to bed, what's going on?"
"I just thought you could use some help."
"I think we've got everything under control down here, hon."
"What about upstairs? I can put on a dress and carry a tray."
Her mother looked down at her sternly. "You know the rules Marisa. You are not to be involved in these gatherings."
Marisa stubbornly placed her hands on her hips. "But why? I'm old enough now, aren't I? I won't drop anything, you know I won't! And I'll be very good and polite!"
"The answer is still no. I'll tell you again, Marisa: one day you will be able to go, and when the time comes, your father and I will tell you."
The little sparrow flapped his wings angrily. "I think you're lying!" she cried, "I think you're going to keep me hidden away forever! You don't want anyone to know I even exist!"
"That's not true honey. I wish you could go to the party, but trust me, it's for your own good that you don't. When it is time, you will go. I can promise you that."
Marisa turned and stomped off to the shadowy corner beneath the stairs to sulk. What was so special that they didn't want her to see? It wasn't fair. She'd been patient her whole life. Her daemon pecked at the walls, scratching the floor with his tiny talons. Footsteps of several servers shook the wooden stairs above her head and she suddenly had an idea. Scooping up her daemon, she placed him back on her shoulder and made her way to the base of the stairs, immersing herself in a group of uniformed individuals carrying trays. They were beginning their ascent now, and she glanced quickly over at her mother, relieved to find her focused on something in oven. Masked by the other workers, Marisa made it all the way back up to the hallway without being caught. She hung back now, feigning a turn towards her bedroom until they were rounding the mysterious corner. With lightning speed she shot forward after them, getting down on her hands and knees at the edge of the opening. Her jaw dropped and she was sure her heart skipped a beat when she peered around the bend.
There was gold everywhere; the walls, the furniture, the people, even the rug. Everyone was in elegant, formal attire. Glorious daemons stood proudly next to each person, glancing around the room nonchalantly. Glasses clinked and the gentle hum of conversation filled the room. Her parents' coworkers expertly floated across the floor, offering exotic looking hors d'oeuvres or refilling champagne flutes. A couple strode into her line of sight, only mere feet away, but the glittering chain of gold on the woman's wrist held Marisa firmly in place. She had never seen anything so beautiful. She had to have one. There was no question about that. One day she would be that woman: she would wear a fancy dress with gold caressing her skin for all the others to see.
Whether it was from sheer willpower or a miraculous coincidence, as the woman linked arms with her companion to walk away, the clasp of her bracelet came undone. The gleaming band tumbled to the floor in front of her eyes and a golden monkey leapt forward, snatching it up with nimble claws. He scampered back over to her, laying his prize in front of her. She lifted it from the ground and closed her hands around the warm metal. It was hers now. Hers forever. Getting up, she shot one last look into the room to find a young man's gaze fixed directly on her. Her eyes widened in fear yet her monkey daemon snarled with malice, prepared to fight for the trinket. The man strolled towards her with a smile but she tore down the hallway towards her room, blonde curls flying, and never looked back.
Safely behind the closed door, Marisa clamored up onto her bed, panting. The monkey jumped up beside her and she stroked his soft fur with one hand while admiring her new acquisition sitting on the palm of the other.
She looked up at the monkey. "We shouldn't have taken it." She paused, then stretched her arm forward. "Will you put it on me?"
He deftly clipped the two ends together, encasing her wrist in gold. She smiled and shook her hand from side to side, watching the bracelet bounce and refract the moonlight from her window against the wall. Footsteps approached her door and she quickly shoved her hand under her pillow, laying down and pretending to sleep. The door opened slightly, a beam of warm light falling across her body. It remained still for a moment before closing again without a sound. Opening one eye, Marisa could see they were alone once again. She stood up quietly, creeping over to her dresser. Pulling out the bottom drawer, she extracted a lone sock, whose partner never returned from the laundry, and dropped the bracelet inside, knotting the top of the sock afterwards. She buried it beneath the others and carefully slid the drawer closed before crawling back into bed. The monkey curled up next to her, just beneath her pillow, and she absentmindedly trailed her fingers through the golden strands of fur until she drifted to sleep.