Chapter 10: Realisations
A/N Thanks to all my reviewers! A note to a few of you:
Eowyn: I have no idea why Will married Emily. She wasn't supposed to come off as such a perky idiot.
SavetheSqUiRrEls: Will couldn't tell Lyra he was married. Lyra just assumed that everything would work out, and neither Xaphania nor Mary told her otherwise before she got too excited. Her reaction to Emily was mostly shock - if she had calmed down a little, she wouldn't have been so angry or hurt. As to the Republic of Heaven - Lyra's first step in that was learning how to read the alethiometer again. Pullman didn't really specify /how/ they were going to build this Republic, and I haven't read HDM for a while, but the sense I got was that the Republic wasn't going to be /quite/ real - the Kingdom of Heaven itself wasn't a real place either, not the way the Authority's Mountain was. I took it as being more of a symbol for the Authority's power and ultimate control - the Republic would be a symbol of peace, freedom to believe and act the way one wanted to, rather than the way the Church demanded they act. By leading their lives normally, but still trying to act in that way, Lyra and Will had started to build the Republic. They're also only in their early twenties - they still have their whole lives ahead of them. Hopefully that made a semblance of sense; I will try to get a mention of that in this chapter. And about the angels' way of travelling - Xaphania told them that that way of travelling wouldn't truly be physically real - somewhat like pretending, but not really. Lyra and Will unknowingly have taken the first step by being able to faintly feel the other's presence when they're together in the Botanic Garden, at least the way I see it. None of my explanations of Pullman's unfinished threads are canon according to him - it's just the way I chose to read the story and to write it. And that was a very long paragraph.
Anyway.now on with Chapter 10 of my little ficcy. Disclaimer is as usual. This chapter is fluff, mostly, but sometimes you gotta let off some steam.
By the time Lyra got back to Mary's flat, it was nearly seven-thirty and she was starving. She had eaten nothing since the night before, in her world, and it seemed a lot longer. Walking up 5 flights of stairs did no help for her hunger or tiredness.
She found Flat 508 with considerably less trouble than she had that morning, and pressed the little red chiming button. It seemed to act somewhat like a bell-pull, but she saw no bell that actually made the noise, nor any way the button was attached to it.
Mary opened the door almost immediately, a vaguely irritated expression on her face. When she saw Lyra standing there, the irritation turned to surprise, and then to a most obvious wince. "Lyra . . . you're back." Her Alpine chough daemon on her shoulder ruffled its feathers and stared at Lyra with a beady black eye.
"Yes, I am. Could we - Pan and I - maybe stay the night here? It's too late to go back to the window."
"Um . . ." Mary glanced behind her, looking worried. "Well, there's a small problem with that -"
The sounds of a toilet flushing issued from down the hall, and then the sound of a door being unlocked and opened. Lyra, standing on tiptoe to peer over the taller woman's shoulder, nearly turned on her heel and ran when she saw whom it was that had come out.
Will was standing in the mouth of the hallway, only a few yards from Lyra and Mary, and he hadn't seen Lyra yet. Upon noticing Mary standing at the door, he came out into the living room and sat down somewhat dismally onto the sofa. "Who is it, Mary?"
"See for yourself," Mary said, a little uncertainly, as she stepped to the side and let Lyra walk into the flat. Will twisted on the sofa, saw Lyra, and groaned, burying his face in his left hand. Lyra's heart was thumping in her chest, not all from nervousness.
"Will?" she whispered, walking over to him slowly and kneeling by the couch. "Please - it's me - we need to talk." Mary wisely walked into her bedroom, firmly closing the door. They were alone.
Will turned away. "I can't talk to you right now, Lyra. I just can't."
"Then you never will," Lyra replied resolutely. "I'm leaving to go back to my Oxford tomorrow. You weren't a coward when I knew you, Will - has Emily changed you, somehow?" Her words were harsh, and she knew it, but the shock and pain of seeing Will with someone else had left a wound on her heart that hurt more than any physical pain.
Will dropped his hand and turned to look at his love. "You didn't talk like that when I knew you, either."
"Then we've both changed for the worse," Lyra retorted. "But if you don't let me say what I have to, then you must say good-bye and I'll be on my way. At least let me ask you something."
Will sighed, and moved over to let her sit on the couch. She did so, perching awkwardly on the edge, as if she felt uncomfortable near him. /Lyra/, uncomfortable with him! His heart churned. Kirjava sat before him, betraying his emotions in the drooping of her tail, her obvious yearning to reach out to Pantalaimon on Lyra's shoulder.
"I won't ask you why you married Emily. I can't see any reason why you would marry her - I know we both said that if we found someone we liked, we could marry him or her, but I never imagined you'd marry someone like her. But that's not what I want to say." The fire in Lyra's blue eyes was dulled by pain and tiredness. "I need to know - " Her voice caught, and she reached up unconsciously for Pan, who flowed into her hand. She held him close to her breast, and whispered, "Have you . . . have you been doing . . . what we promised the angels we would?"
Will's hand moved of its own accord, reaching out to her, dying to touch her hands, her face, her lips. He drew it back, and regretted it when he saw the shocked hurt in her eyes and on her face. "Lyra . . . I . . ." In truth, he had been trying to do as they had promised - build the Republic of Heaven - but he didn't really know /how/ he was supposed to do that. To oppose the Church, he supposed - to oppose their domineering ways, build a belief in a Republic of freedom. "Yes . . . I have been trying."
Lyra looked at him, eyes bright with tears she could not hold in any longer. They spilled over - tears of pain, tears of joy, tears of overwhelm, tears of love. "Oh Will . . . I never stopped loving, never stopped trying . . . not an hour went by when I didn't think of you, didn't try to recall your face, your hands, your voice . . . but I never stopped living my life. Please say you did the same . . . it's too much to ask for."
Will found he couldn't hold on anymore. He reached out and took her into his arms - the small, shaking form, familiar even after ten years of absence. They sat there like that for a long time, before Lyra carefully pulled away.
"I never stopped either," Will replied gently. "All during my wedding on Midsummer, I was wishing I could be there - I kept trying to escape, if only for a few minutes - a wedding is supposed to be something you can enjoy, but I was distant the whole time. . ." He ran out of things to say, and took her small hands in his. Lyra could feel the rough bumps where his last two fingers had once been - the skin was paler than the rest, a rough, knobbly scar tissue, but no longer red and throbbing as it had been when she had last seen it.
"So. . . where do we go from here?" Lyra asked, afraid of the answer she knew was coming.
Will looked away from her eyes. "There isn't much we can do, Lyra. Nothing has changed over the past ten years when it comes to. . .to living in each other's world. I don't know how you got into my world, but. . ."
"It was a window. Not made by the knife, but a window nonetheless. Xaphania told me about it last night, but she said that it couldn't stay open for long. I have to go back soon. . .and. . .Will, you're married now. /Married/! I can't be around if you're married to someone else."
They both knew she spoke the truth. Xaphania's gift had allowed them to see each other again. . .but it could not be permanent.
"One more night," Will whispered. "One more night."
"No." This time, the voice was not Lyra's but Pantalaimon's. "We cannot, no matter how much we want to. It will only make the parting - and there must be a parting - even harder."
"I must leave tomorrow, Will," Lyra whispered, tears spilling onto her cheeks. "I can't stay any longer."
Will didn't reply for a moment. He took Lyra into his arms and kissed her, a long, desperate, final kiss. Lyra gripped his denim shirt, knuckles turning white. Pan and Kirjava clung together, each with the other's claws digging into their furs.
It hurt to pull away. But pull away they did, both faces wet with tears that weren't all their own. Then Will stood, brushing Lyra's face with his fingers, before turning and leaving the flat. Lyra watched him go, fighting the temptation to run after him.
A/N Well. . .that was very final, wasn't it? I honestly didn't expect this chapter to be how it ended - I had a lot more ideas in mind for the story. Still. . .this may not be the real ending. So don't give up on me yet! I'm not one to end stories with fluffiness
A/N Thanks to all my reviewers! A note to a few of you:
Eowyn: I have no idea why Will married Emily. She wasn't supposed to come off as such a perky idiot.
SavetheSqUiRrEls: Will couldn't tell Lyra he was married. Lyra just assumed that everything would work out, and neither Xaphania nor Mary told her otherwise before she got too excited. Her reaction to Emily was mostly shock - if she had calmed down a little, she wouldn't have been so angry or hurt. As to the Republic of Heaven - Lyra's first step in that was learning how to read the alethiometer again. Pullman didn't really specify /how/ they were going to build this Republic, and I haven't read HDM for a while, but the sense I got was that the Republic wasn't going to be /quite/ real - the Kingdom of Heaven itself wasn't a real place either, not the way the Authority's Mountain was. I took it as being more of a symbol for the Authority's power and ultimate control - the Republic would be a symbol of peace, freedom to believe and act the way one wanted to, rather than the way the Church demanded they act. By leading their lives normally, but still trying to act in that way, Lyra and Will had started to build the Republic. They're also only in their early twenties - they still have their whole lives ahead of them. Hopefully that made a semblance of sense; I will try to get a mention of that in this chapter. And about the angels' way of travelling - Xaphania told them that that way of travelling wouldn't truly be physically real - somewhat like pretending, but not really. Lyra and Will unknowingly have taken the first step by being able to faintly feel the other's presence when they're together in the Botanic Garden, at least the way I see it. None of my explanations of Pullman's unfinished threads are canon according to him - it's just the way I chose to read the story and to write it. And that was a very long paragraph.
Anyway.now on with Chapter 10 of my little ficcy. Disclaimer is as usual. This chapter is fluff, mostly, but sometimes you gotta let off some steam.
By the time Lyra got back to Mary's flat, it was nearly seven-thirty and she was starving. She had eaten nothing since the night before, in her world, and it seemed a lot longer. Walking up 5 flights of stairs did no help for her hunger or tiredness.
She found Flat 508 with considerably less trouble than she had that morning, and pressed the little red chiming button. It seemed to act somewhat like a bell-pull, but she saw no bell that actually made the noise, nor any way the button was attached to it.
Mary opened the door almost immediately, a vaguely irritated expression on her face. When she saw Lyra standing there, the irritation turned to surprise, and then to a most obvious wince. "Lyra . . . you're back." Her Alpine chough daemon on her shoulder ruffled its feathers and stared at Lyra with a beady black eye.
"Yes, I am. Could we - Pan and I - maybe stay the night here? It's too late to go back to the window."
"Um . . ." Mary glanced behind her, looking worried. "Well, there's a small problem with that -"
The sounds of a toilet flushing issued from down the hall, and then the sound of a door being unlocked and opened. Lyra, standing on tiptoe to peer over the taller woman's shoulder, nearly turned on her heel and ran when she saw whom it was that had come out.
Will was standing in the mouth of the hallway, only a few yards from Lyra and Mary, and he hadn't seen Lyra yet. Upon noticing Mary standing at the door, he came out into the living room and sat down somewhat dismally onto the sofa. "Who is it, Mary?"
"See for yourself," Mary said, a little uncertainly, as she stepped to the side and let Lyra walk into the flat. Will twisted on the sofa, saw Lyra, and groaned, burying his face in his left hand. Lyra's heart was thumping in her chest, not all from nervousness.
"Will?" she whispered, walking over to him slowly and kneeling by the couch. "Please - it's me - we need to talk." Mary wisely walked into her bedroom, firmly closing the door. They were alone.
Will turned away. "I can't talk to you right now, Lyra. I just can't."
"Then you never will," Lyra replied resolutely. "I'm leaving to go back to my Oxford tomorrow. You weren't a coward when I knew you, Will - has Emily changed you, somehow?" Her words were harsh, and she knew it, but the shock and pain of seeing Will with someone else had left a wound on her heart that hurt more than any physical pain.
Will dropped his hand and turned to look at his love. "You didn't talk like that when I knew you, either."
"Then we've both changed for the worse," Lyra retorted. "But if you don't let me say what I have to, then you must say good-bye and I'll be on my way. At least let me ask you something."
Will sighed, and moved over to let her sit on the couch. She did so, perching awkwardly on the edge, as if she felt uncomfortable near him. /Lyra/, uncomfortable with him! His heart churned. Kirjava sat before him, betraying his emotions in the drooping of her tail, her obvious yearning to reach out to Pantalaimon on Lyra's shoulder.
"I won't ask you why you married Emily. I can't see any reason why you would marry her - I know we both said that if we found someone we liked, we could marry him or her, but I never imagined you'd marry someone like her. But that's not what I want to say." The fire in Lyra's blue eyes was dulled by pain and tiredness. "I need to know - " Her voice caught, and she reached up unconsciously for Pan, who flowed into her hand. She held him close to her breast, and whispered, "Have you . . . have you been doing . . . what we promised the angels we would?"
Will's hand moved of its own accord, reaching out to her, dying to touch her hands, her face, her lips. He drew it back, and regretted it when he saw the shocked hurt in her eyes and on her face. "Lyra . . . I . . ." In truth, he had been trying to do as they had promised - build the Republic of Heaven - but he didn't really know /how/ he was supposed to do that. To oppose the Church, he supposed - to oppose their domineering ways, build a belief in a Republic of freedom. "Yes . . . I have been trying."
Lyra looked at him, eyes bright with tears she could not hold in any longer. They spilled over - tears of pain, tears of joy, tears of overwhelm, tears of love. "Oh Will . . . I never stopped loving, never stopped trying . . . not an hour went by when I didn't think of you, didn't try to recall your face, your hands, your voice . . . but I never stopped living my life. Please say you did the same . . . it's too much to ask for."
Will found he couldn't hold on anymore. He reached out and took her into his arms - the small, shaking form, familiar even after ten years of absence. They sat there like that for a long time, before Lyra carefully pulled away.
"I never stopped either," Will replied gently. "All during my wedding on Midsummer, I was wishing I could be there - I kept trying to escape, if only for a few minutes - a wedding is supposed to be something you can enjoy, but I was distant the whole time. . ." He ran out of things to say, and took her small hands in his. Lyra could feel the rough bumps where his last two fingers had once been - the skin was paler than the rest, a rough, knobbly scar tissue, but no longer red and throbbing as it had been when she had last seen it.
"So. . . where do we go from here?" Lyra asked, afraid of the answer she knew was coming.
Will looked away from her eyes. "There isn't much we can do, Lyra. Nothing has changed over the past ten years when it comes to. . .to living in each other's world. I don't know how you got into my world, but. . ."
"It was a window. Not made by the knife, but a window nonetheless. Xaphania told me about it last night, but she said that it couldn't stay open for long. I have to go back soon. . .and. . .Will, you're married now. /Married/! I can't be around if you're married to someone else."
They both knew she spoke the truth. Xaphania's gift had allowed them to see each other again. . .but it could not be permanent.
"One more night," Will whispered. "One more night."
"No." This time, the voice was not Lyra's but Pantalaimon's. "We cannot, no matter how much we want to. It will only make the parting - and there must be a parting - even harder."
"I must leave tomorrow, Will," Lyra whispered, tears spilling onto her cheeks. "I can't stay any longer."
Will didn't reply for a moment. He took Lyra into his arms and kissed her, a long, desperate, final kiss. Lyra gripped his denim shirt, knuckles turning white. Pan and Kirjava clung together, each with the other's claws digging into their furs.
It hurt to pull away. But pull away they did, both faces wet with tears that weren't all their own. Then Will stood, brushing Lyra's face with his fingers, before turning and leaving the flat. Lyra watched him go, fighting the temptation to run after him.
A/N Well. . .that was very final, wasn't it? I honestly didn't expect this chapter to be how it ended - I had a lot more ideas in mind for the story. Still. . .this may not be the real ending. So don't give up on me yet! I'm not one to end stories with fluffiness