His class had been cancelled at Jordan college. He'd only been running the class a few months. Attendance was low and while the master appreciated his exploration of the Banard-Stokes hypothesis - now, no longer heresy Lyra noted - it was becoming increasingly difficult keeping the Scholars intrest. They'd decided together to cancel the course. Lyra had promised the Master they would still continue the work, though in a much quieter atmosphere.
Will suspected her of working in their newly created field to get back to the other worlds. They'd started together with intentions of producing toward the Republic of Heaven. Since then the two had at very least sparked the debate of seperating science from church. Not surprisingly William Parry fought on the side of seperation. The fight was decided in Geneva, and with Parry's support, experimental theologians became scientists.
It wasn't the dismal fight they'd expected. Their journey together had broken the power branch of the church - the Consistorial Court of Discipline - and shattered the confidence of the other branches. In the six years it took them to decide to fight for science no other power dared fill the empty shoes left by the Court. The Church lost its oppressive hold on the people through most means. Colleges and Universities were freed from teaching barrs and Scholars and teachers stepped hesitantly through newly unguarded doors into areas freshly cleaned for exploration. William Parry quickly made a name for himself. He'd taken a job as a servant of Jordan College, and apparently, while just a child, the knowledge of Jordan was so great it influenced even servants. He'd presented a thesis of some of the more simple scientific theories he could recall and quickly gained credit at White Hall. After all, it was rumored, he was the son of the magnificently intelligent, though strange, Stanislaus Grumman. Any question of how he'd come to belong in Oxford, or why he hadn't existed before age fifteen, or why Grumman hadn't mentioned a son was only proof of his story. After all, hadn't Grumman the same type of mystery to him? And so William Parry and his dæmon Kirjava had joined the new world, determined to create their own difference - even if only to the ones they loved.
He had plans to move from the college into a house of his own now. He was sure he'd saved up enough money by now.
"You think we'll be okay in the city, right Kirjava?"
Kirjava lept onto the table he sat at and looked him in the eye. "We've never had doubts before on our own, Will. We always made it work. This is no different"
He stuffed the box into a small pocket in his jacket. This was different.
"Let's go now, Will." Kirjava insisted. They wouldn't be late now.
They left the kitchen table of Jordan to take the walk into Summertown. Will had become a regular customer at a certain unappetizing nook he'd refer to as a restaurant. He loved the shape of their bar and their strawberry pancakes. Lyra refused the call them pancakes and disliked their strawberry nature, but Pan had batted Kirjava's ear: "It's the company." he explained simply. And today they'd be in the best company: their friend, their safety, their love.
"One knee, Will." Will reminded himself.
He coughed and tripped. "I know, I remember, I can do this." He picked up the pace and stepped over the pavement cracks and scattered bits of garbage. All the luck. "Will, we don't have to. It's a pancake hut even."
"I like their pancakes." Will answered back simply.
"It's not even romantic. We really shouldn't." Kirjava argued.
But Will wasn't ready to argue over where love led him. Even if it was just pancakes, Lyra was there too. His heart thudded suddenly faster and he gasped in a painful breath - he was thrilled, but terrified. He'd even been careful to make sure everything was perfect this morning, just for her. From his shoes to his hair, to his first breakfast: perfection. This would be his second breakfast: just in case he was too worried to eat it his stomach wouldn't grumble or anything.
Lyra and Pantalaimon were working on a slice of apple pie, waiting for them. Pantalaimon nosed the crumbs around the plate a few times before deciding on the best morsels.
"Will!" Lyra jumped from the hard red bench and threw her arms around him to deliver one overly sweet and sticky kiss. He licked his lips and laughed.
"I didn't know if you'd make it." She confessed happily.
"For you." He smiled confessing in his own happy manner. After all, he hadn't been very busy lately unless they'd been working together. His heart struggled harder and harder in his chest as he decided what came next.
"Pantalaimon and I ordered your pancakes." She blushed as if under his stare for the first time. "What is it Will? Are you feeling all right today?"
He grinned dangerously happy, but held back. Kirjava was right, Lyra was more that this, so much more he couldn't tell where her perfection ended at and where his clumsy attempt could begin. He looked at Kirjava for confirmation - she licked a paw in catful distaste. He'd come to recognize this from his dæmon.
"I'm fine Lyra. I'm just - " Excited, nervous, terrified, thrilled, his mind raced " - so much in love with you." He settled on the perfect way to describe the moment.
"I love you too, Will." She hugged him seriously and pressed herself into his shoulder. It was never a girlish fancy, never something she hadn't felt with all the passion she could muster without starving bits from herself. It was real and true and she was refreshed each time he spoke the words to her.
He held her softly to himself. His Lyra, as he was hers. For so long now, so short. There was nothing in the world he wanted now than to tell her he loved her, again and again. The ring in his pocket nearly seared his insides with anticipation. But it wasn't the ring. Will Parry gasped painfully and stepped back.
"Will!" Lyra screamed as he fell. Pantalaimon jumped over in shock. Kirjava released a screech of terrific depth. Tears immediately fell from Lyra's face as she and Pan stumbled to reach him.
"Will! Will!" She gasped, shocked.
"Kirjava!" Pantalaimon nuzzled her, "Don't leave us, don't leave us!" Other customers rushed to help. William Parry lay still, but the screeching continued.