Question: Does the golden monkey have a name?
Well, here's the second installment in the Lord Asriel/Mrs.. Coulter series. I just love writing for the two of them! Oh, and about the quarter horse thing...I don't know if they had such things (just like the Egyptian Cotton...but oh well), but I just couldn't throw away Asriel's joke on a technicality. It's just too great! I just watched Sabrina, the remake not the Audrey Hepurn one (which is just beautiful too!) and I've decided that Harrison Ford should be Lord Asriel when they decide to butcher His Dark Materials and make it into a movie. (Someone's got the rights...it's come! Total destruction of a beautiful thing!)
Lord Asriel watched Mrs. Coulter from across the polished wooden table. The breeze off the river was cool in the late morning heat, and the veranda was a most pleasant place to be eating breakfast. The view was breathtaking, the tamed formal gardens, the water plants, and the beautiful woman staring him straight in the eye across the table from him. Yes, it was a grand morning indeed. Mrs. Coulter looped her almost-black curls behind her ears with both hands.
"Do that again, Marisa," Lord Asriel asked calmly. From a voice so used to giving commands, it almost sounded like pleading.
"Do what, Asriel?" She asked, casually picking up her coffee cup.
"You know what I mean! That thing you do with your hair. I don't know how to describe it. It's just something you do."
"What this?" She asked, tucking those curls back again.
"Exactly!"
"I don't know what's gotten into you this morning, Asriel." She was taking a sip of her coffee with one hand and breaking off a peice of a sweet roll with the other.
"You have, my dear."
That took Mrs. Coulter by surprise. She'd never have expected Lord Asriel to call her "my dear". He was far too cold, even with his closest friends. They were lovers of course, but there was no sweetness between them.
"I think we should get married," Asriel said nonchalantly, biting off a peice of toast and marmalade.
"I think it was you perhaps who had too much to drink last night. I'm a married woman, Asriel."
"And yet you sneak off your husband's estates every other week and slither over to mine. I wouldn't say you're a doting wife, Marisa."
"True, but I do have obligations."
"I'll kill him for you." There was no sarcasm in that remark. It was a good and valid offer. If she'd asked, he would have hopped up, still in his dressing gown and run off to kill Mr. Coulter."
"I think you need to drink more of that coffee."
"I don't think he deserves you, Marisa."
"Edward is a deserving man!" (a/n: Yes! That is his name! It says so in the Golden Compass! Go look it up, scoot!)
"He's Edward now? Last night he was just Mr. Coulter. You are so very fickle, Marisa."
"Oh, Asriel! You know what I mean. You're suggesting something absurd and illegal."
He shrugged. "It's been done before."
They sat in silence for a while. Mrs. Coulter was recovering from the shock of Lord Asriel's very real offer. It was really a preposterous idea. It made absolutely no sense. Asriel was obviously still recovering from too much wine and a desperate lack of sleep. Perhaps she ought to suggest he lie down for a while, alone. Then suddenly, an idea came to her.
"If you were to kill Mr. Coulter and we got married, you do know what that would make you?"
"It would make you Lady Belacqua."
"It would make you daddy."
"Honestly, Marisa. Do you think I could ever be daddy? I'd be father, and that's even if the little brat does exist."
"You don't doubt that you're going to be a father. I can at least see that in your eyes."
"Yes, so what?"
"This conversation is going to go around in circles. I'm not wasting my time."
"What would you like to waste your time on?"
"Yes, there's another thing. I think you're overtired, Asriel. It would be my suggestion that you go and lie down for a while."
"And you with me?" He asked, with a devilish glint in his eye.
"No. I think I'll catch up on my sleep too. I get so little of that when I'm here."
"You need to learn how to stay awake for long periods of time."
He was looking at her intently, as if they were part of a dime store novel and he was making a foreshadow statement.
"No. I don't think I need sleep any more than you do. I suggest we go riding. It's too fine a day to spend indoors," He said, after a moment.
"I brought no mount."
"Do you think I only keep one horse in all those stables? Come. Let's get dressed and we'll find you a proper steed."
"I didn't bring my riding habit or my sidesaddle."
"Would you stop making excuses? I saw riding clothes in your case. I saw them!"
She looked down and swirled the end of her coffee around in the delicately painted cup. She was beaten, and let out a little sigh.
"I knew you'd see it my way," said Lord Asriel.
Three quarters of an hour later they were both dressed and surveying the horses in Lord Asriel's stables. There were more than a dozen, and certainly several suited correctly for Mrs. Coulter.
"The Palomino then? Or the Chestnut? I want to get out before it gets too hot."
"Which has the better gate?"
"I would personally go with the new one. Something from those dreadful former colonies. A half, a five eights? No. A quarter horse, that's it. She's the chocolatl colored one, with the white mane."
"You know your horses better than I do. I am certainly no equestrian."
And so they had chosen, and within the hour both horses and their riders were well into a comfortable ride. Lord Asriel's estates sprawled over all sorts of country. There was, of course, no shortage of places to visit, or horse trails for that matter.
"What would you say to a little race, Marisa?" Lord Asriel was grinning nearly ear to ear. In the afternoon heat, he had shed his jacket and was riding in white shirtsleeves. Those too had been drenched with sweat and clung to his upper half.
Mrs. Coulter was equally hot, but unable to shed any of her clothing. She was beginning to tire and the squinting in the sun had given her a headache.
"I don't think so, Asriel. Don't you think it's time we headed back? You're soaked."
"I've only just begun! First one into the shade wins." He was pointing across the heather-filled meadow at a shady grove of trees.
"I really don't think---"
But she never finished her sentence. Lord Asriel had smacked her horse on the rump with his riding crop while spurring his own mount on, and so he got his race. It was a frightening moment without control for Mrs. Coulter, but she soon regained her bearings and was even beginning to enjoy the bit of wildness when the horses both stopped at the edge of the meadow, right in the shade of the trees.
"You have an unquestionable way of getting what you want, Asriel," She panted.
"I do, don't I? What would you say to a swim?" He had already stripped off the sweat-soaked shirt and was walking a little stiffly toward a little pond in the shade.
"Have you no modesty?"
"Not when you're around."
"You are just like a little boy. You have the attention span of one. You think of the same things to do, and you talk like one."
"I shan't take offense at that if you apologize right now."
"I shan't apologize if you don't put your shirt back on."
"You're just like a little girl. You're easily embarrassed like one. You call names, and you're stubborn like one."
She turned her nose in the air. Lord Asriel stalked off into the trees.
"Come along, Stelmaria."
It was the first time he'd spoken to his daemon since Mrs. Coulter had arrived. Consequently, it was the first time the golden monkey had responded to something. He was reaching out his arms toward the snow leopard, obviously wanting to jump of the horse and join his friend. He made pitiful little whimpering sounds.
"Oh hush!" Mrs. Coulter snapped.
"Are you coming, Marisa?"
How could she refuse? In a moment, Mrs. Coulter had slipped down off out of the saddle and was following Lord Asriel into the trees.
(Like? Don't like? Those little reviews make my day!)
Well, here's the second installment in the Lord Asriel/Mrs.. Coulter series. I just love writing for the two of them! Oh, and about the quarter horse thing...I don't know if they had such things (just like the Egyptian Cotton...but oh well), but I just couldn't throw away Asriel's joke on a technicality. It's just too great! I just watched Sabrina, the remake not the Audrey Hepurn one (which is just beautiful too!) and I've decided that Harrison Ford should be Lord Asriel when they decide to butcher His Dark Materials and make it into a movie. (Someone's got the rights...it's come! Total destruction of a beautiful thing!)
Lord Asriel watched Mrs. Coulter from across the polished wooden table. The breeze off the river was cool in the late morning heat, and the veranda was a most pleasant place to be eating breakfast. The view was breathtaking, the tamed formal gardens, the water plants, and the beautiful woman staring him straight in the eye across the table from him. Yes, it was a grand morning indeed. Mrs. Coulter looped her almost-black curls behind her ears with both hands.
"Do that again, Marisa," Lord Asriel asked calmly. From a voice so used to giving commands, it almost sounded like pleading.
"Do what, Asriel?" She asked, casually picking up her coffee cup.
"You know what I mean! That thing you do with your hair. I don't know how to describe it. It's just something you do."
"What this?" She asked, tucking those curls back again.
"Exactly!"
"I don't know what's gotten into you this morning, Asriel." She was taking a sip of her coffee with one hand and breaking off a peice of a sweet roll with the other.
"You have, my dear."
That took Mrs. Coulter by surprise. She'd never have expected Lord Asriel to call her "my dear". He was far too cold, even with his closest friends. They were lovers of course, but there was no sweetness between them.
"I think we should get married," Asriel said nonchalantly, biting off a peice of toast and marmalade.
"I think it was you perhaps who had too much to drink last night. I'm a married woman, Asriel."
"And yet you sneak off your husband's estates every other week and slither over to mine. I wouldn't say you're a doting wife, Marisa."
"True, but I do have obligations."
"I'll kill him for you." There was no sarcasm in that remark. It was a good and valid offer. If she'd asked, he would have hopped up, still in his dressing gown and run off to kill Mr. Coulter."
"I think you need to drink more of that coffee."
"I don't think he deserves you, Marisa."
"Edward is a deserving man!" (a/n: Yes! That is his name! It says so in the Golden Compass! Go look it up, scoot!)
"He's Edward now? Last night he was just Mr. Coulter. You are so very fickle, Marisa."
"Oh, Asriel! You know what I mean. You're suggesting something absurd and illegal."
He shrugged. "It's been done before."
They sat in silence for a while. Mrs. Coulter was recovering from the shock of Lord Asriel's very real offer. It was really a preposterous idea. It made absolutely no sense. Asriel was obviously still recovering from too much wine and a desperate lack of sleep. Perhaps she ought to suggest he lie down for a while, alone. Then suddenly, an idea came to her.
"If you were to kill Mr. Coulter and we got married, you do know what that would make you?"
"It would make you Lady Belacqua."
"It would make you daddy."
"Honestly, Marisa. Do you think I could ever be daddy? I'd be father, and that's even if the little brat does exist."
"You don't doubt that you're going to be a father. I can at least see that in your eyes."
"Yes, so what?"
"This conversation is going to go around in circles. I'm not wasting my time."
"What would you like to waste your time on?"
"Yes, there's another thing. I think you're overtired, Asriel. It would be my suggestion that you go and lie down for a while."
"And you with me?" He asked, with a devilish glint in his eye.
"No. I think I'll catch up on my sleep too. I get so little of that when I'm here."
"You need to learn how to stay awake for long periods of time."
He was looking at her intently, as if they were part of a dime store novel and he was making a foreshadow statement.
"No. I don't think I need sleep any more than you do. I suggest we go riding. It's too fine a day to spend indoors," He said, after a moment.
"I brought no mount."
"Do you think I only keep one horse in all those stables? Come. Let's get dressed and we'll find you a proper steed."
"I didn't bring my riding habit or my sidesaddle."
"Would you stop making excuses? I saw riding clothes in your case. I saw them!"
She looked down and swirled the end of her coffee around in the delicately painted cup. She was beaten, and let out a little sigh.
"I knew you'd see it my way," said Lord Asriel.
Three quarters of an hour later they were both dressed and surveying the horses in Lord Asriel's stables. There were more than a dozen, and certainly several suited correctly for Mrs. Coulter.
"The Palomino then? Or the Chestnut? I want to get out before it gets too hot."
"Which has the better gate?"
"I would personally go with the new one. Something from those dreadful former colonies. A half, a five eights? No. A quarter horse, that's it. She's the chocolatl colored one, with the white mane."
"You know your horses better than I do. I am certainly no equestrian."
And so they had chosen, and within the hour both horses and their riders were well into a comfortable ride. Lord Asriel's estates sprawled over all sorts of country. There was, of course, no shortage of places to visit, or horse trails for that matter.
"What would you say to a little race, Marisa?" Lord Asriel was grinning nearly ear to ear. In the afternoon heat, he had shed his jacket and was riding in white shirtsleeves. Those too had been drenched with sweat and clung to his upper half.
Mrs. Coulter was equally hot, but unable to shed any of her clothing. She was beginning to tire and the squinting in the sun had given her a headache.
"I don't think so, Asriel. Don't you think it's time we headed back? You're soaked."
"I've only just begun! First one into the shade wins." He was pointing across the heather-filled meadow at a shady grove of trees.
"I really don't think---"
But she never finished her sentence. Lord Asriel had smacked her horse on the rump with his riding crop while spurring his own mount on, and so he got his race. It was a frightening moment without control for Mrs. Coulter, but she soon regained her bearings and was even beginning to enjoy the bit of wildness when the horses both stopped at the edge of the meadow, right in the shade of the trees.
"You have an unquestionable way of getting what you want, Asriel," She panted.
"I do, don't I? What would you say to a swim?" He had already stripped off the sweat-soaked shirt and was walking a little stiffly toward a little pond in the shade.
"Have you no modesty?"
"Not when you're around."
"You are just like a little boy. You have the attention span of one. You think of the same things to do, and you talk like one."
"I shan't take offense at that if you apologize right now."
"I shan't apologize if you don't put your shirt back on."
"You're just like a little girl. You're easily embarrassed like one. You call names, and you're stubborn like one."
She turned her nose in the air. Lord Asriel stalked off into the trees.
"Come along, Stelmaria."
It was the first time he'd spoken to his daemon since Mrs. Coulter had arrived. Consequently, it was the first time the golden monkey had responded to something. He was reaching out his arms toward the snow leopard, obviously wanting to jump of the horse and join his friend. He made pitiful little whimpering sounds.
"Oh hush!" Mrs. Coulter snapped.
"Are you coming, Marisa?"
How could she refuse? In a moment, Mrs. Coulter had slipped down off out of the saddle and was following Lord Asriel into the trees.
(Like? Don't like? Those little reviews make my day!)