Disclaimer: I do not own the His Dark Materials series or any correlating elements.
A/N: Hello, everyone! I'm so sorry I've been MIA for a few months! I've been super busy with work and stuff for my university. Busy times! However, I did find a little time for this short continuation of our exploration of Mrs. Coulter's maternal side, so here it is! Please let me know how you like this different perspective. :) I'll hopefully have the next one up sometime after my finals! Thanks so much for reading.
o6. Confirming Comfort
As they raced through the blustery early-morning air by the means of a sleek, pointed sled, Lyra and Mrs. Coulter were off to Trollesund, Lyra's head buried deep into the softly-furred crook of her mother's arm. It was very late (or possibly very early), and Lyra was extremely tired. Pan cuddled up deep within her furs as a fluffy mouse, and Lyra snuggled even closer to the warmth of Mrs. Coulter's body. Though shaking with pure exhaustion and enchantment, she was fighting to stay awake with every passing moment.
The wind growing harsher, Lyra moved closer to her mother, and Mrs. Coulter in turn drew her arm around her, enveloping her in the warmth of her side and planting a warm, gentle kiss on the top of her ice-flecked forehead. Lyra did not react to this gesture but merely curled up tighter, eager to escape the cold of the arctic. With Pan shivering his way closer to Lyra's neck, they didn't have much energy to feel anything but hot and cold.
It was all very strange how things had turned out, and even in the wretchedly cold state that she was in, Lyra couldn't help but feel amazed at how quickly her life had changed course. Just a day earlier she was dolled up in pretty pink dresses while eating steaming meals, and after an emotional confrontation between Mrs. Coulter, Lord Asriel and herself, she was being whisked away back to Trollesund, leaving her father and all the other kids behind.
Don't you think it's all a bit strange? she sensed Pan think as he put his mouth to her skin. Do we really trust being with her?
We have to, Pan, Lyra thought, willing away a yawn that threatened to exude from her mouth. What else have we got right now?
But as Lyra sat there, wrapped up in a blanket and in Mrs. Coulter's arms, she couldn't help but feel a tiny, strong feeling glow in the depths of her stomach. She breathed in Mrs. Coulter's scent, which was still strikingly sweet amidst the tundra, and she took in how soft and comforting her hand felt on her head, gently moving rhythmically back and forth. She appreciated how Mrs. Coulter hummed a low sort of melody in her ear, and as she straightened up to lift her head a little bit, she felt lulled by the woman's tender, drawn-out shush.
What was it about Mrs. Coulter that intoxicated Lyra just so? It was all so complex and grand. Throughout all of her life, Lyra had never known the gentle touch of a mother, and as deprived as she was of the notion, she couldn't get enough of it. No matter how malicious she may have been or how dangerous her company could be, there was something special about Mrs. Coulter that made laying there embedded in her arms a soft, safe sensation that seemed to trump anything else in the world.
. For the first time in her life, it seemed, twelve year-old Lyra was exactly where she was supposed to be. She felt warm and safe as she leaned against her mother's breast, and with that thought, she felt herself slowly drift away into sleep, her daemon pressing softly against her chest.