I got the idea from the second episode in HDM, "The Idea of North."

I do not own any of the characters, no copyright infringement intended.

This is one of my first fanfics ever and my first on HDM. If you have any advice I would love to hear it, I would love to improve my writing, especially my creative writing, which I have never had practice with. The more advice and friendly critique the better. :)

Lastly, If you can tell me how to better involve their daemons that would be much beneficial, I had a hard time encompassing them.

Mrs. Coulter and Lyra just stepped off the golden lift, which led into the hallway of Mrs. Coulter's flat. They had spent the entire day together, shopping, lunching at the artic institute, and ending it all with a play.

Mrs. Coulter cupped her hand softly on Lyra's cheek, smiling "now darling, you head-on into the tub and I will be there in a short while to wash your hair, I won't be a minute." Her voice fading away as she walked into the living room.

Lyra made her way down the hall until she found herself in the bathroom. The room, which had marble covering the walls and floor, was much larger than the disappointment of space she was given to occupy for the 12 years she lived at Jordan. Lyra stood next to the tub, which stood in the middle of the room and began to undress. The tub, which was filled to the brim with the warm bath water, Lyra presumed was done by one of the many servants, smelt of vanilla and lavender. And to any 12-year-olds delight lots and lots of bubbles.

Pan settled on the ceramic side of the tub in his ermine shape, "I don't think she plans to take us North." Lyra shot him an annoyed look as she tossed her navy dress and undergarments on the floor before getting into the tub, "sure she does." Before she could say much more, she was brought out of her frustration with a slight jump from the light knock coming from Mrs. Coulter, "may I come in?"

Mrs. Coulter, who had changed into a black silk nightgown, flashed a smile at Lyra as she walked behind her before pulling up the chair from underneath the window. "Did you have a fun day today?" she asked as she gently guided Lyra's head back before using a cup to pour warm water over her hair, wetting it.

"Yes," she responded, eyes wide, mimicking the smile across her face, "I never used to have this much fun at Jordan."

"Oh," Mrs. Coulter responded as she began to lather the shampoo through Lyra's dark hair.

"Well, I had fun." Lyra retorted, "just a different kind of fun."

Lyra turned her head slightly, making eye contact with Mrs. Coulter, "What do you mean?" she asked Lyra as she cocked her head to the side.

"Well, for instance, I have never had anyone buy me anything before," Lyra said in almost whisper. "All of the clothing I ever owned was given to me by Ms. Lonesdale, and I have never been bought new clothes."

Lyra, enjoying having her hair gently washed, began to sink in the tub a little. She had not noticed how tired she was. Since she has lived with Mrs. Coulter, three days now, they had been going non-stop, which Lyra was not opposed to. Still, she was just a twelve-year-old who only new tiredness after playing on the rooftops of Jordan with Roger and their friends.

Lyra turned once again after noticing Mrs. Coulter had stopped washing her hair, her hands still tangled in the sudsy locks. Mrs. Coulter, being brought from her thoughts, smile kindly at Lyra and resumed washing her hair.

Mrs. Coulter spoke as if nothing had happened "Well, there is plenty more where that came from, from now own everything you acquire will be brand new specifically for you."

Lyra dunked under the water to rinse out the shampoo allowing Mrs. Coulter to condition her hair.

Lyra smiled, "at Jordan, Mrs. Lonesdale was in charge of washing my hair, picking out my clothes, and brushing my hair, but she hurt and would always leave my head tender and a bit bruised. But when you wash my hair, I just want to fall asleep." Lyra said, laughing at her statement.

Mrs. Coulter's face flashed a sad smile, "well, I would never hurt you, Lyra, and I promise you I will never allow anyone or thing hurt you." Mrs. Coulter said flashing Lyra a smile, "now dunk your head, I am going to grab you a towel."

Lyra dunked her body in the water, causing Pan to run, trying to avoid the splash she caused. Mrs. Coulter held open the fluffy pink towel, shielding her face behind the towel as Lyra stepped in it. "Is this what it would have been like if my mom and dad if they hadn't died?" Lyra asked, staring at the floor.

Mrs. Coulter wrapped her arms around the girl, resting her chin on Lyra's wet hair. "Lyra, I may not be your mother, but while you are staying with me, I will take care of you."

Lyra's eyes, which were filled to the brim with tears, spilled over as she held onto to Mrs. Coulter, immersing herself into the warmth and comfort the woman gave her.

Mrs. Coulter aware the girl was now sobbing began to make soft shushing sounds from her lips, easing Lyra's crying. Mrs. Coulter walked Lyra to her bedroom, turning away from her as the girl slipped on her purple silk pajamas.

Lyra was consumed with exhaustion. Mrs. Coulter pulled back the sheets allowing the girl to slid under. Once Lyra laid settled, Pan curled up against her neck in his ermine shape.

Lyra's eyes were burning from exhaustion as well as her crying. Watching Mrs. Coulter, as she was tucking her in, she felt the heaviness drift over her. Mrs. Coulter gently brushed away a stray hair on Lyra's face before cuffing her little girl's cheek, affectionately, "goodnight Lyra."

Mrs. Coulter walked over to the door, still watching Lyra, Her daughter. With tears glistening in her eyes, she watched the sleeping girl before whispering in a shaky voice, "I love you, daughter, I will always love you." Before she closed the door gently.