And here's the next one. We meet a new character. Hope you like him. I know
Eanna will Again Lyra's world.
Dedicated to Eanna for being the all round comic relief for me whilst I was writing this. Meh, she knows what I mean :D
Lyra's Oxford
Lyra drew in her breath, gripping Pantalaimon so hard with her hand that he winced. Now or never, Lyra, she reminded herself.
"Master?"
"...and that's why we need to hold the party tomo...yes, Lyra?"
"Could I please talk to you?"
The Master of Jordan College looked at her, wearing a bemused expression "Isn't that what we're doing now, child?"
"No...I mean...it's important, sir."
It was after dinner of the same night in which Lyra had realised the truth. She was now sitting in a comfortable chair in the Master's study, discussing the finer details of her imminent move. Or at least, that was what he thought. Lyra, however, had more pressing things than packing on her mind. As she sat in her chair, lulled half-asleep by the warmth from the fire and the soft light shed by the naphtha lamps, she wished that she did not have to end it this way. But she believed that honesty was the best policy, and so, in a way, she had to do it. She would tell the Master about her condition, he would then have no option but to throw her out or suffer complete disgrace, and she would find herself, again, homeless. Maybe she could return to the Gypsies. Or the Witches. Perhaps Serefina Pekkala would take her in. but what if they didn't? She pushed all these thoughts from her mind and turned to face the Master, looking directly into his piercing grey eyes, which were, apart from his brain, the only part of him that had not begun to suffer from the advances of old age.
"Master...I have terrible news. And, I am afraid; it is news that will make you hate me. But before I tell you...I need you to know that I didn't mean for any of it to happen. Though I suppose its too late to change things now. Though this doesn't mean I don't want these things to happen. That is..." she tailed off and sighed, once again gazing into the fire. Since she had returned to Jordan, she had found the Master to be the only one who could, and would, truly understand some of what she had been through. She did not want to keep this from him, but she couldn't hide it forever!
The Master looked at her, perplexed. She seemed stooped somehow, broken. As though she was carrying a heavy burden, one far too heavy for someone her age. Yet he could not find the words to tell her how he felt...that she was the closest thing he had ever had, and would have, to a daughter.
Just as he was about to speak, there was a knock at the door, and Cousins entered it, holding it open for the visitor. "May I introduce to you, Sir, Master Jonathan Lorell."
Dedicated to Eanna for being the all round comic relief for me whilst I was writing this. Meh, she knows what I mean :D
Lyra's Oxford
Lyra drew in her breath, gripping Pantalaimon so hard with her hand that he winced. Now or never, Lyra, she reminded herself.
"Master?"
"...and that's why we need to hold the party tomo...yes, Lyra?"
"Could I please talk to you?"
The Master of Jordan College looked at her, wearing a bemused expression "Isn't that what we're doing now, child?"
"No...I mean...it's important, sir."
It was after dinner of the same night in which Lyra had realised the truth. She was now sitting in a comfortable chair in the Master's study, discussing the finer details of her imminent move. Or at least, that was what he thought. Lyra, however, had more pressing things than packing on her mind. As she sat in her chair, lulled half-asleep by the warmth from the fire and the soft light shed by the naphtha lamps, she wished that she did not have to end it this way. But she believed that honesty was the best policy, and so, in a way, she had to do it. She would tell the Master about her condition, he would then have no option but to throw her out or suffer complete disgrace, and she would find herself, again, homeless. Maybe she could return to the Gypsies. Or the Witches. Perhaps Serefina Pekkala would take her in. but what if they didn't? She pushed all these thoughts from her mind and turned to face the Master, looking directly into his piercing grey eyes, which were, apart from his brain, the only part of him that had not begun to suffer from the advances of old age.
"Master...I have terrible news. And, I am afraid; it is news that will make you hate me. But before I tell you...I need you to know that I didn't mean for any of it to happen. Though I suppose its too late to change things now. Though this doesn't mean I don't want these things to happen. That is..." she tailed off and sighed, once again gazing into the fire. Since she had returned to Jordan, she had found the Master to be the only one who could, and would, truly understand some of what she had been through. She did not want to keep this from him, but she couldn't hide it forever!
The Master looked at her, perplexed. She seemed stooped somehow, broken. As though she was carrying a heavy burden, one far too heavy for someone her age. Yet he could not find the words to tell her how he felt...that she was the closest thing he had ever had, and would have, to a daughter.
Just as he was about to speak, there was a knock at the door, and Cousins entered it, holding it open for the visitor. "May I introduce to you, Sir, Master Jonathan Lorell."