Disclaimer: is not Philip Pullman
Author's Note: Written ages ago in response to the fact that all HDM-midsummer type fanfics seem to involve Will and Lyra being reunited, or Will getting a new girlfriend who's horrible and has to be got rid of. So here's a perfectly ordinary midsummer in which Will has a nice, normal girlfriend.
"Come on!" Will says. "It's just a little further."
Cara follows him down the path, starting to feel slightly uneasy about the visit. "I didn't know you'd been here before." she says.
"I come here every year." he says, but she's still not sure he heard her.
"This isn't something to do with your dæmon, is it?" she says warily. She's still not sure she likes the idea of her boyfriend talking to a cat she can't see.
"No." he says, then thinks some more. "Well, kind of."
In another world, Lyra and Pan are there already, sitting on the same bench they've come to for eight years, now.
"Do you think he's here yet?" Lyra says.
"Probably not." says Pan, sitting on her lap. "We're a bit early, after all."
"I wish," she says, "I could know when he arrives."
"Or if he still comes."
"Don't say that!"
Earlier that day, sitting in the flat they were staying in for the summer, Cara had been surprised by how happy Will seemed (because Will rarely seemed very happy. It was something one had to get used to). He'd some into the kitchen whisting, and had started to make coffee.
"I'm going to the botanic gardens today," he'd said. "Want to come?"
She'd been a little surprised at this; she'd never thought of him as a garden person. But she'd agreed to go, not realising until later that there was something more going on.
"Oh, come on," her friend had said. "Why can't I come?"
"Because." Lyra had said. "Because I want to go on my own."
"I don't think I've ever been there, though." she'd said. "I really want to come, Lyra. Please?"
Lyra had thought it over carefully. For a few seconds. "No!" she'd said, making it as clear as she could that there would be no more discussion.
"This is it." Will says.
Cara looks around. "What is?" she doesn't see anything special about the place.
"This place," he says. "It's special."
He goes to a bench – not the nearest one, a different one, picking it out specially – and sits down. Cara walks over and stands near him. "Is this all you do?" she says. "Every year?"
He nods. She wonders why, but doesn't feel she can ask.
"He's probably here by now." says Pan, staring forlornly at the other end of the bench. Lyra agrees silently.
"Do you think he looks very different?" she says.
"Probably." he replies. "You probably do. But she'll be the same." he says, and Lyra knows he means Kirjava.
"Yes." she says.
In one world, a woman stands, then sits, in silence, as a man performs some strange ritual.
In another, a woman sits alone, and wonders, and cries a little, before leaving, back to her life.
Thoughts?
