Disclaimer: I do not own the His Dark Material series or any correlating elements.

A/N: Hi everyone! Here is the second chapter of the story. I actually had a dream about the last half with the diary, so I thought that I'd fit it into the plot. I'm sorry if this scene seems off-topic, but it's probably an issue that would have to be addressed anyway. Hopefully more to come! This is just the beginning of my ideas :) Thanks for reading!

NOTE: Revised 11/10/19.

Luxurious Lies

o2.

Troubling Truths

"I see."

Those two, cutting words—more like two blades of sheer ice—pierced through Mrs. Coulter as she slowly turned to stare at the six-footed figure dripping with the wild of the arctic. His dark russet hair was ruffled from the wind, and his face burned red and heated from the flush of civilization. Vaguely, Mrs. Coulter wondered how long he had been isolated from human society. By the looks of his gnarled beard, it had been quite a while.

But also, she wondered how hard it was for him to rush back in from the arctic. With the golden monkey growling in her ear, Mrs. Coulter wondered what had made him do it so quickly, and she wondered why he would care about his half-neglected daughter. Ultimately, she wondered why, or if, he had ever cared about the two of them at all. She felt a growl of her own loom in the pits of her soul as she continued to stare at him, and as he continued to stare back.

The snow leopard, whose shoulder blades stuck out of their haunches as she sauntered forward, gave Mrs. Coulter the most malicious of all disapproving glares. The golden money hissed, and the leopard snarled; the two danced their vicious little dance, as they had time and time before. Mrs. Coulter couldn't help but sneer at her, and at him.

"Uncle Asriel?"

Mrs. Coulter's concentration was broken. Snapping her head around, she turned her attention back to Lyra. The girl's head was tilted to the side as she gazed over at Lord Asriel. Her daemon changed into a golden owl, and together, they stepped forward. In the soft glow of the lighting, Mrs. Coulter noticed that the pair almost looked like shimmering gold—almost like herself and her own daemon.

She's mine, Mrs. Coulter thought, feeling the muscles on her neck start to tense.

"Lyra. It's good to see you in full health." Lord Asriel's eyes moved to quickly look her up and down. "I'm happy to say that your time here is done. Now collect your things and follow me out."

"Excuse me?" Mrs. Coulter rushed to her feet, the golden monkey jumping up to his usual perch on her shoulder. It was just like Asriel to do this, to show up unannounced (and unwanted) and to act entirely recklessly. He'd been this way for the entire 15 years that they'd known each other, never changing and never recognizing the rashness with which he acted. It made her sick. "How dare you give orders in my chambers? May I remind you of where you are?"

"My dear Marisa," snarled Lord Asriel, face breaking into a grin, "I believe that I know exactly where I am and that I know exactly what you do. And I daresay that Lyra does too, I presume?"

Oh, what a clever move. Bring in Lyra to finish the blow. Mrs. Coulter looked down at Lyra and noticed how utterly confused and torn the girl appeared to be. Moments earlier, she had opened her mouth to reply to Mrs. Coulter's "offer" of taking her in, to further engage in what was an emotionally uncomfortable yet necessary conversation. What she had started to say had been lost with the swinging of that door, but now, new words formed at the tip of her little, silver tongue.

"Uncle Asriel, what are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you, of course," the man snorted, rolling his eyes. "Now get a move on, child! We must leave at once!"

"Don't you touch her!" Mrs. Coulter moved forward, her arm spreading out to prevent Lyra from moving. Dark, blazing eyes met fierce, sparkling blue, and for a moment, Mrs. Coulter was lost in the rage along with the strange exhilaration that shook her from her very core.

Mrs. Coulter hadn't thought all of this out, if she were to be honest with herself. Absolutely none of this had been on her radar; seeing Lyra in that machine had completely rattled and broken her. She knew Lyra was out in the North, but here? In Bolvangar with all the other children? And now Asriel here, too, somehow out of prison and free to move about as he pleased?

It was too much, but it had to be dealt with. And Mrs. Coulter would deal with it, like she always did.

Sighing, Lord Asriel took off his hat and slipped out of his furs, leaving them to drop and leak filthy water all over Mrs. Coulter's floor. "Lyra, tell me what's happening here."

"You don't have to," Mrs. Coulter countered, glancing down at Lyra. The girl's face was still twisted in that moment, stuck somewhere between frustration and interest and fear. Mrs. Coulter leaned closer and lowered her voice. "We can easily throw him out."

"No," she simply said, and Mrs. Coulter held back a disappointed sigh.

This is why we do not listen to children, the golden monkey drawled in her mind. Mrs. Coulter tried her best to ignore him. They make no sense. This is ridiculous. Get him out of here already!

"Lyra, come here," Lord Asriel ordered, and this time, Lyra stepped forward and walked over to him.

As she moved away from the bed, something fell from where she had been laying. Mrs. Coulter stared at it, curiosity piqued. While Lyra was busy talking to Lord Asriel, Mrs. Coulter bent forward to retrieve the fallen object. It was Lyra's diary. Her secrets, the golden monkey added, his beady eyes darkening.

She didn't really know what made her do it. Seeing that Lyra was too preoccupied to notice, Mrs. Coulter flipped the book open and read one of the pages in the beginning. She started to scan the sloppy text, and her blue eyes narrowed.

This is a nice book that Mrs. Coulter gave me today. It's newer and nicer than any journal I've ever had. I hope I don't mess it up too much. She said she was gonna teach me how to write notes and letters and stuff, and I'm just really happy. She's so nice to me.

For a moment, Mrs. Coulter smiled.

Mrs. Coulter is really keeping me busy. I don't know what to do half of the time. I thought I was busy and important back in Jordan, but Mrs. Coulter is REALLY busy and important. She knows all these weird smelling men and nicely dressed woman, and they're kind of scary when they act all nice and ask you how you are doing and all. I never say anything, and Mrs. Coulter just smiles and says stuff for me while rubbing my back. I wish I could live with her forever.

The golden monkey thrashed around on her shoulder in reaction to the way Mrs. Coulter was feeling, but she ignored him, continuing on.

I'm getting sick of all this training and crap. When are we ever going to go North? Mrs. Coulter is just keeping me here like a pet and I hate it. At least the scholars at Jordan were honest.

A little later: I'm gonna get out of here. She don't know what's best for me, and she en't gonna tell me what to do all the time. No one can tell me what to do!

As Lyra continued to speak with her father, Mrs. Coulter's heart drummed faster and her eyebrows dragged closer as she read on, skipping to parts in the middle.

Stuck in the lower decks today. The Gyptians are making me stay under cause Mrs. Coulter has them Magisterium people looking for me on ships. I really hate it under here. Why does she keep trying to gobble me up?

On another page: She sent some spy thing to get me. We got one, but the other got away. I hope it doesn't tell her where we're at. I'm really scared that she'll come take me.

Skipping forward a few pages, The Gyptians told me everything. Uncle Asriel is really my father, and Mrs. Coulter, she's my mother. Only she en't.

Mrs. Coulter inhaled sharply, some strange sort of sensation forming a lump in her throat.

Real mothers don't leave their kids behind. Real mothers stay with them and take care of them and stuff from when they was a baby, not when they're older and locked up in a college. She should've took care of me my whole life, but she didn't. That en't what a mother would do.

Feeling her face flush, Mrs. Coulter turned to the last page of the book.

She's here. I saw her get off the zeppelin. I don't know what I'm gonna do. I'm so scared that I can't eat or sleep. She's gonna find me, and I just know something bad is going to happen. I need to get out of here and save these kids before she kills them all. We need to get away from her.

Mrs. Coulter shut the book and slipped it back to where she had found it, allowing herself a moment to regain her composure. She hadn't known Lyra was feeling that way back in London. She could tell that the girl was impatient (and understandably so since Mrs. Coulter had been very intentionally stalling), but she didn't realize that Lyra had feared her toward the end. Mrs. Coulter liked to think that children trusted her, loved her, wanted to be with her. Yet here her own child was, wanting nothing to do with her.

What was wrong with her? This wasn't how a mother should make her child feel...

She turned her attention back to Lyra and Lord Asriel just then as she heard him raise his voice. He was yelling something about how careless Lyra had been, and Lyra shot back that he'd left her all alone at Jordan. Mrs. Coulter knew that it was time to intervene, before Lyra got swept up in something Mrs. Coulter wouldn't be able to control.

"That is quite enough, Asriel. You can leave now."

"Oh really?" Lord Asriel advanced forward, his eyes sparkling. "You think you can tell me what to do now?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Coulter, leering at him. "Lyra is going to stay with me." She glanced over at Lyra, who was trying to look at both of them at the same time (quite unsuccessfully). Her gaze then returned to Lord Asriel. "You've never taken care of her, and I don't see why you would start now. Just leave, Asriel, before I call the Magisterial police. Because I will."