Disclaimer: I do not own the His Dark Materials Series.

A/N: Idk about y'all, but I would love to be lost in a foreign world with Mrs. Coulter and Lyra. I think it'd make for the most fascinating experience! :)

Enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Golden Auroras

Chapter 4

The next few days were lost in a haze. Mrs. Coulter and Lyra traveled every which way around the outskirts of the city—Cittàgazze, as the alethiometer called it. They slept in trees and washed themselves in streams, their daemons on high alert and never quite sitting still or getting comfortable. The spectres were a mobile group of spirits, but they were earth-bound and slow to move. And while they could sense and track Dust, their range wasn't particularly that extended, making it possible for Lyra to keep them out of their paths until they'd finally left the city.

It must be draining, Mrs. Coulter thought as she watched Lyra dip her head and study the alethiometer once more. They were breaking in a small clearing just outside of town. She wasn't sure if the girl had taken a proper rest since they first arrived. They took turns keeping watch at night, but Mrs. Coulter could tell that Lyra didn't truly trust her enough to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time. She'd sit up and rub her eyes roughly after a while, sleep still clinging to them, before she'd brush it aside and pull out the alethiometer again, verifying the spectres' location.

Why is she going through all this trouble? the golden monkey wondered, a suspicious edge to his thoughts. She's perfectly safe in this world. She can do as she pleases. So why do this?

Mrs. Coulter wanted to believe it was because, deep down, Lyra cared for her and wanted to protect her; because Lyra recognized Mrs. Coulter as her mother and thought it meant something. But she didn't need the monkey's scoffs to know that wasn't the truth. Lyra wasn't telling Mrs. Coulter something. She was hiding some kind of important knowledge. Given the way she hugged that alethiometer day and night, she'd probably asked hundreds of questions and probably knew something about Mrs. Coulter that she herself didn't even know. Whatever it was telling her, it apparently was enough for Lyra to want to keep her around, though. At least for now. And perhaps that'd have to be enough.

It would only be a matter of time until all the citizens returned, so the two made their way into the town. The spectres had moved on, thankfully. At least enough for Mrs. Coulter to be safe. It was dark and a strange, bright burst of light illuminated the streets at every corner. It was different than anbaric light as it was harsher. Could be a different energy source? As they strolled down the street, they looked at the abandoned shops and open houses. The architecture was modern in a way Mrs. Coulter hadn't seen before: flat roofs and steel siding. Yet other elements looked quite timeless, such as wooden mailboxes and bright flower gardens. What is this place?

This wasn't what Mrs. Coulter had hoped for upon crossing the bridge. She didn't know what she'd hoped for, really, but it wasn't getting chased by soul-sucking spirits and wandering around with no purpose. She liked having a purpose. Needed to have a purpose. Even the golden monkey felt that way, perhaps even moreso than she. So their situation at the moment was not ideal in the least. And what ailed Mrs. Coulter is that she didn't have much control over it. They'd done what they'd done and now they were here.

"Are you hungry, Lyra?" They'd entered a small home in the middle of the second row, which looked safe enough. Of course Lyra was hungry; her growling stomach gave as much away. They hadn't eaten a proper meal in days, getting by solely on berries and foliage. Cooking would be a completely different challenge, however, as Mrs. Coulter wasn't used to cooking on her own. To boot, the equipment in this world felt completely foreign and unusable.

"What have we got here," Mrs. Coulter asked aloud, looking around for the ice box. She soon turned to just opening all of the doors, and she was surprised to open the door of a tall box and find a collection of food items and a strong chill. "Ah."

Even though she'd visited another world, she didn't live much of a domestic life there. Her time away was… Complicated, to say the least. Cooking, then, was still very much new and unfamiliar to her. Mrs. Coulter found a package that looked like meat and then emptied it out onto a pan that was already on the stove top. You don't know what you're doing, the monkey practically hissed at her, sitting impatiently on the kitchen counter. With our luck, you're going to poison us all!

"Oh, hush," she said out loud to him, causing Lyra to look over at her curiously. Mrs. Coulter merely shook her head and continued to stir the meat, hoping it wouldn't taste as terrible as she feared it would.

They sat down to eat it twenty minutes later, along with large glasses of milk. As they sat there across the table from one one another, completely silent as they devoured the (passably edible) protein in front of them, Mrs. Coulter was reminded of their time in London together. They ate almost every meal out on the terrace, looking up at the clouds and the birds as they chatted at length about the north and the theater and anything else that came to mind. They laughed and exchanged jokes and pleasantries. It'd been under false pretenses, but they'd enjoyed some good moments together back then. It wasn't all entirely awful. At least Mrs. Coulter would have hoped.

It was all different now, though. There was a divide between them that was almost physical. How'd they get there? Mrs. Coulter should know, but she didn't. She realized that she hadn't truly paid attention to Lyra back then, and had perhaps been more taken with the idea of her than the reality of her. A pattern that played out across her life.

Lyra was the first to speak. "How long are we staying here?"

"Well," Mrs. Coulter responded, digging her knife into her meat, "I suppose that's up to you to decide. You were planning to come here all along, right? So what would you have us do?"

Lyra narrowed her eyes at her, and Mrs. Coulter blinked back slowly. She wasn't trying to be difficult. For once, she actually wanted to give Lyra some space, give her some room. Hadn't her worst mistakes with Lyra resulted when Mrs. Coulter tried to control her? The golden monkey sighed from his place under the table, but Mrs. Coulter ignored him and stared patiently back at Lyra.

"I suppose the first thing I'd do is… sleep." She was tired. Mrs. Coulter knew that already. It wasn't hard to see. And if the alethiometer could ensure their safety for the time being, then maybe Lyra could actually take the time to rest.

"Alright. Sounds like a plan."

They disregarded their dishes on the table as they wandered upstairs, Pan hopping into each room as a mini kangaroo and Mrs. Coulter and the golden monkey following slowly behind. There were three rooms: two bedrooms and a bathroom. Lyra took the bedroom on the left and Mrs. Coulter took the bedroom on the right.

"Are you ready for bed?" Mrs. Coulter was leaning against the doorframe of Lyra's room. She was being awkward. Even the golden monkey could feel it as he grew warm and uncomfortable under his fur. What was she even doing, checking in on Lyra like this? She'd lost that right the moment Lyra ran away from her. Both times, the golden monkey was keen to add. Yet there she was, worrying and hovering like all the pathetic mothers she'd once so ardently scorned.

"Yeah." Lyra was staring up at her from her bed, covers pulled up to her chin and Pan on top of her head as a mouse.

"Would you like me to, uh… Tuck you in?"

"No."

"Of course not," Mrs. Coulter laughed, trying to push aside the mortifying pangs from her daemon. "I'll just be going, then… Good night." Lyra was silent as Mrs. Coulter backed out and then closed the door, kicking the golden monkey as she left.

Meanwhile, several miles away, a boy tiptoed his way through a strange window. He looked around him in awe and wonder. In one direction glittered Oxford, the bright glare of headlights almost blinding him. Yet, in the other direction beamed something else, something new, something different…

There's a boy. As she was drifting off to sleep, Mrs. Coulter remembered Lyra saying that there was a boy. And then nothing else.

"We should ask her about him," the golden monkey muttered, shifting around at the foot of the bed.

"Maybe." Mrs. Coulter wasn't convinced—about Lyra, about this world, about anything, really. But what she needed most was sleep, so she allowed her eyes to droop and her mind to swirl before she fell into a deep slumber.

Vaguely, the image of a large snow leopard appeared in her dreams, stalking her as if she were prey. It pounced and she screamed, only for the creature to laugh with a growl that soon turned into a deep, male chuckle before it all faded to black.

Mrs. Coulter asking Lyra if she wanted her to tuck her in T_T