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

A/N: Hi everyone! Here's the next part of the story. I'm on winter break for the next 3 weeks, so hopefully I'll have a lot of time to write more! I'm splitting my time between a few different stories, but this is definitely my favorite one to write since I've been so infatuated with these characters for so long. :) Thanks for reading, and please be sure to write a review and let me know what you think!

o9.

Trembling Trust

"We need to leave." Mrs. Coulter started to shove all of her and Lyra's possessions into a sleek, elephant-skinned sack, glancing over her shoulder every few seconds. A dim yet steady light blazed in the distance, and between the howls of the wind, Mrs. Coulter could hear vicious yowls and snarls. "We need to leave now."

It was still too distant to tell, but Mrs. Coulter had a looming suspicion that the noise belonged to a group of traveling Tartars. They too were caught up in the flurry of moving north to gather minerals, spirits, furs and the like, yet though the savages had a contract with the Magisterium, Mrs. Coulter doubted that they'd recognize her. She knew that the safest option was to leave before they even had the chance to see her.

The golden monkey sprang over to the dogs and prodded them awake, his little black face sneering as they sloppily rose to their paws, yawning and stretching. Still yawning herself, Lyra rubbed her eyes with her ice-frosted mittens and reached for Pan, who was still curled in her sleeping bag as a snowy ermine. The two stared at Mrs. Coulter with groggy confusion, and as Mrs. Coulter moved to start loosening the structure of the tent, she felt that familiar surge of impatience claw at her stomach.

"I said that we need to get going," Mrs. Coulter snapped, motioning for Lyra to rise. "Start helping me."

"But why?" Mrs. Coulter saw a twinge of defiance nestled into Lyra's sleepy blue eyes. She had stopped yawning, but she was still lying lazily on her mound of blankets.

"Because I said so." What was it about children that made them challenge every single command given to them? It was really starting to irritate Mrs. Coulter. No matter where they were, be it London or Bolvangar, Lyra always took some kind of pleasure in speaking up against her. She just didn't want to be told what to do, even when it affected her safety. "Now get up and get going. Roll up your sleeping bag and put it into your sack. Start helping me put everything away."

Lyra narrowed her eyes, but out of the corner of her vision, Mrs. Coulter saw her slowly start to fold up her sleeping bag, exchanging an annoyed look with Pan. At this, Mrs. Coulter felt her pressure start to rise.

They just didn't understand. Glaring over at her daughter again, who had paused to play with a stray string on her coat, Mrs. Coulter couldn't believe how she didn't understand. Did she think they were off on vacation? Did she honestly think that it was a treat and adventure to be huddled inside a little tent while hiding from the sheer, cruel force of the world? Children were so clueless and so useless. With a yowl of agreement from the golden monkey, Mrs. Coulter wondered why anyone would ever sacrifice their life to have a house full of them.

But as she put out the fire and gathered up the cooking utensils, a sharp pang raked her heart. That's what you're doing now. That's what you ran away from before.

Nudging Lyra out of the tent and instructing her to hook up the dogs to their sled, Mrs. Coulter again turned her attention over to the light. It was stronger and brighter now, and the voices were far too close for comfort. Desperately tugging at the stiff canvas of the tent and watching as it slowly started to collapse downwards, she knew that there wasn't enough time for her to jimmy it down and then fold it neatly into its carrying case. Sizing up the amount of available space on the sled, she could tell that there wasn't any room for her to just throw the damned thing onto, so it was either leave the tent and run or take the chance of folding it up and getting caught by a patrol of traveling savages.

"Aren't you in quite the pickle?" Jumping back, Mrs. Coulter turned to see a man clothed in filthy, ragged furs with dark, dangerous eyes. His snow leopard daemon appeared from his wake, and she growled at them softly, her green eyes narrowed and focused.

With advancing savages to her left and Lord Asriel to her right, Mrs. Coulter was completely and utterly stuck. Either way was threatening, and Mrs. Coulter knew that she was going to have to make a snap decision. Lyra came to stand next to her, her blue eyes wide and trained on Lord Asriel's stature, and she slipped her hand into Mrs. Coulter's. The golden monkey screeched from his perch on Mrs. Coulter's shoulder, and Mrs. Coulter squeezed Lyra's hand tightly.

"You know," said Lord Asriel, his eyes flickering to the ever-enlarging light and then to the pathetically crumpling tent. Mrs. Coulter held her breath. "I've been walking on my own for about four days now. I would love to hitch a ride in someone's sled."

Gray eyes met blue, and Mrs. Coulter understood, even if she didn't like it.

Urging Lyra to go sit in the sled, Mrs. Coulter and Lord Asriel scurried towards the tent, each taking a side. Lord Asriel extended his arm to speed up the collapsing process, and Mrs. Coulter began to forcefully fold and bully the canvas into place. He quickly met up to her, grinning slightly as they pressed their sides of the tent together, and he moved to scrunch it down into a passable fold before shoving it into the carrying case, throwing it over his shoulder, and then running towards the sled, taking Mrs. Coulter by the hand.

It was quite crowded in the front of the sled, so Lyra had to sit on Mrs. Coulter's lap while the golden monkey clung to her shoulders and Stelmaria sat scrunched at Lord Asriel's feet. Her eyes raking over his face, Mrs. Coulter didn't trust Lord Asriel for a minute. But as he stuffed his bag and the tent into the small storage compartment, glancing over at the clear shine of the light and its inhabitants, she had to admit that she felt a lot safer with him around.

"Let's go!" he shouted, taking the reins and whipping them at the fluffy-furred huskies. Barking and snapping, they started to trot forward, and after a few more ferocious whips, they were running at full speed, causing Mrs. Coulter's eyes to water at the velocity of the wind. Lyra turned to hide her face into Mrs. Coulter's chest, and Mrs. Coulter shushed and rocked her, angry at herself for thinking such vile thoughts.

As impatient and harsh as she was, Mrs. Coulter still had the softest of weaknesses for Lyra. Sure it was awfully demanding to take care of a child, and of course not every moment was a pleasurable one. After giving up Lyra to Jordan College, Mrs. Coulter had often held babies and watched children with the utmost disgust. They always seemed so ungraciously needy and spoiled; they always seemed so pointless to coddle and love.

But now that she had her child, everything was different. A decade of hardened conditioning towards children was starting to unravel with every passing minute. She loved the way Lyra lay cuddled in her chest, her little hands resting on the top of her shoulders, and she loved how easy she was to comfort and appease. She knew that twelve years ago she would've been a completely unfit mother, but now that she's had time to think it over and punish herself, she knew that she was ready to try it again.

And then there was Asriel, which complicated things. Looking at him, Mrs. Coulter couldn't tell what he was thinking, but she knew that it somehow entailed a plan to take Lyra away from her. He'd always known how she felt about children, and after her abandonment of their child, of course he'd feel reluctant to give her another chance. She hurt him the day Edward was killed by turning her back to him and carrying on like nothing had happened, and she knew that he'd never believe that she could change.

But I did she insisted, surprised to feel her daemon shrugging with indifferent agreement. She knew that after all she'd done and seen, the only thing she wanted was to go back to her past and mother her one and only child. Everything else in the world – money, status, stature, and even romantic love – was petty and beneath her. Anyone could have such things, but a proper bond between a mother and her child was one incredibly more sacred and treasured.

The hard part, she knew, was to convince everyone else of that. Glancing once more at Lord Asriel, whose head was juggling between their pursuers and the path ahead of them, she knew that he would be the hardest of all to convince. And as she held her arms tightly around Lyra's shivering figure and buried down deeper into her own furs, she knew that it might even prove to be impossible.