Disclaimer: I do not own the His Dark Materials series.

A/N: Bonjour, everyone! Here's the eleventh installment to the story. It's going off on a direction of its own, but I like it! I understand that it can't be completely perfect and true to everyone's characters (I mean, come on; Lyra and Mrs. Coulter didn't get along for a reason, and this is a bit of a warped version of what could be), but I still think it's fun.

Thanks for reading, and please leave a review and let me know what you think! Have a parfait day.

11.

Perfect Promises

"North Gorvsy?" As Lord Asriel slowed the sled and calmed the dogs, Mrs. Coulter gazed out at the busy, bustling town. She'd been there once during one of her preliminary trips to the northern regions of Sveden, and though she wasn't too familiar with the country of Lapland, she knew it well enough. Located about twenty miles south of Trollesund, it was a hub for trade and resources, but it was lesser known and likewise less monitored. Namely, it was the perfect place for Lord Asriel.

I'll bet you anything he'll find a way to take Lyra. The golden monkey lashed his tail. Don't let her out of your sight.

Glancing back at the sled, Mrs. Coulter saw Lyra struggling to get out. Her coat had caught on a piece of stray wood, and as she tried to jump down, her coat tugged her backwards and caused her to slide awkwardly to the side. It was strange how one child could be so powerful yet so utterly helpless. Watching her struggle, Mrs. Coulter was reminded of how in all sincerity, Lyra was still just a little girl. No matter how tough she appeared or how many things she had accomplished, she was still a child, and there were times where she needed some guidance; there were times where she needed a mother.

"Here, dear," said Mrs. Coulter, placing a hand around Lyra's back while bending to untangle her coat. Her daughter waited and stayed still long enough before leaping down and stumbling to her feet, her legs shaking.

"I feel so wobbly," she said, looking down and swaying on the spot. "I feel like I'm gonna fall down."

Laughing slightly, Mrs. Coulter put an arm around her shoulders and urged her forward, glad that she didn't protest. "You've been sitting so long that your legs fell asleep! Be careful, darling, and just lean on me for now."

In that instant, Mrs. Coulter felt another sort of tenderness as they walked towards the front station together, Lyra's arm placed loosely on Mrs. Coulter's waist as Mrs. Coulter gently nudged her along. They were both looking around at their surroundings while breathing in the clear, fresh air of the mainland, and Pan changed into a snowy white owl and flew along in the breeze, letting out coos of delight. Mrs. Coulter watched how enthralled and delighted the two were, and in the midst of it all, she couldn't help but feel pleasant herself.

"Come along now, girls. We have to meet up with an Adolfo Remingard."That name sounded familiar, but Mrs. Coulter couldn't completely recall how she knew it. Tying up the sled at the station and placing a gold coin in the clerk's hands, Lord Asriel tossed Mrs. Coulter some bags and then grabbed his own before setting off towards the town square, not bothering to look behind him. Shifting her bags to her left side and then giving Lyra some to hold, Mrs. Coulter and the golden monkey exchanged a look.

We could do it now, he thought, his little black eyes narrowing. We could go up to the clerk and tell him we're being held hostage.

That's what he wants. Mrs. Coulter grabbed Lyra's hand and made after Lord Asriel. He fully expects us to do so. I think we should play along to see what he's up to.

Sure enough, when they reached a small, sloppy hut on the very far side of the square, Lord Asriel cast Mrs. Coulter a hard, stern stare. Laughing inwardly at his frank mistrust, she merely smiled back. She'd be as perfect as she could be.

"Adolfo isn't expecting me, so he might be a tad rude." He knocked on the door. As distant footsteps could be heard on the other side, he added "oh, and he thinks that you and I are still together, Marisa, and it might hinder our situation if he discovers the truth. He was rather fond of you."

Just then she remembered where she knew him. Adolfo, a scraggly-bearded, wild-laughed man in his early fifties, had funded her and Asriel's first trip to the North together. As part of their strategy, she had been unfailingly charming and captivating, and it now all suddenly made sense.

Looking down at Lyra, whose blue eyes were narrowed while they bounced between Lord Asriel and Mrs. Coulter, she gave her hand a slight squeeze. The child looked up at her, and Mrs. Coulter prayed that she understood to keep quiet and keep up the best that she could.

"What should I do?" she asked, peering up at Lord Asriel.

He frowned at her, the footsteps almost by the door, and then shook his head slightly. "Be nice and just follow your mother's lead."

"What in the cryin' name of Lake Enera are – why, Asriel!" Short, fat, and clothed in what appeared to be moth-eaten traveling clothes, Adolfo Remingard opened the door and spread a semi-toothless grin. Swiveling his gaze over to Mrs. Coulter, he absolutely beamed. "And Marisa! Dear Marisa! To what do I owe this remarkable pleasure? Come in, come in! Please, come on – "

His eyes then caught sight of Lyra, who Mrs. Coulter felt clinging to her side. "Is this, could it…" His eyes suddenly lit up. "You dogs!" Punching Lord Asriel on the back, Adolfo turned to take Mrs. Coulter's hand, his skin surprisingly soft despite his rough nature. "You have a beautiful daughter, Madam. Come in! All of you!"

Giving out a hearty laugh, Lord Asriel went over to Mrs. Coulter's side and put an arm around her, shaking Adolfo's hand once more before urging him to find his highest quality Tokay. As the man shuffled away towards the end of his "house," Lord Asriel let go of Mrs. Coulter, straightening out his furs.

"This man is our ticket out of here," he muttered, taking a step inside. "His connections are phenomenal, as I'm sure you remember, Marisa. He can get me a private flight out to practically any part of the southern North."

"So can I," she murmured, leading Lyra inside by the shoulders.

Lord Asriel's face was harsh. "Yes, but unlike you, he isn't trying to have me imprisoned and killed. Just go with it and convince him to lend me a plane."

Lyra looked up at Mrs. Coulter, her face unreadable, and Mrs. Coulter gave her an encouraging smile. "Just smile and be sweet, like how you were in London. Everything will be alright." She ran her hands through Lyra's hair, watching as Lord Asriel met up with Adolfo and gave him a good-natured shove, both of them smiling and gazing back at the two of them.

Mrs. Coulter smiled then, comprehension filtering through her brain. With the golden monkey climbing back onto her shoulders, his golden fur shining in the reflection of the sun from the window, she understood how complicated things were. Lord Asriel did her a favor back in the North by helping her escape the Tartars, and now she was in his debt. Of course she didn't have to be civilized about it, but still, he was expecting her to, which allotted her a bit more freedom.

We're to help him get his getaway plane and then take off ourselves, she reasoned, reassured by the golden monkey's hand stroking her neck. When the Magisterium asks, I can tell them how we were taken against our will and how our lives were threatened. I can give them an indication of where he might be, and then we can be off on our way.

And Lyra? He dug his claws into her skin slightly. She's been awfully quiet lately. It's not like her to just give in.

Mrs. Coulter gazed at her again, impressed at how she was handling everything. She had yet to question what they were doing in North Gorvsy or where they were going, and though Mrs. Coulter knew she was probably dying with curiosity, she went along and did what she was told. A part of it was probably due to Asriel, whose presence had always had an impact on Lyra's life, but deep inside her heart, Mrs. Coulter hoped it was because of her, too.

If anything, Mrs. Coulter realized, moving to fix a loose strand of Lyra's hair, she wished for her daughter to truly appreciate and respect her for who she was. Powerful or not, she was her mother; ideal or not, they were stuck together. Mrs. Coulter could have practically anything in the material world, but the one thing she couldn't buy or seduce was Lyra and her affection.

And as they stood there, clinging together amidst a strange, precarious act of false diplomacy, Mrs. Coulter was determined to earn said affection if it was the last thing she ever did.