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

A/N: Hi all! Here's the next segment of our quest, featuring Lyra's POV this time. I thought we were due to hear what she was thinking and what she was feeling. I hope you like it, and thanks for reading! Happy Holidays as well! I'll try and update as soon as I can.

12.

Precarious Positions

"Is everybody hungry?" Adolfo asked, looking around at his guests with a cheery sort of eagerness. Lyra thought he seemed genuinely pleased to have some company, and even though his clothes were tattered and there was this weird sort of odor about him, she liked him. He smiled kindly at her and gave her a slight wink. Purring, his cat daemon blinked at the white, ermine-shaped Pan, who lifted his muzzle in return.

He seems so real, thought Pan, brushing against her legs. He may not be one of Mrs. Coulter's kinds of people, but he's nice.

And indeed, looking over at her mother, Lyra could tell that she wasn't too happy. Adolfo Remingard wouldn't know, of course, but since she'd lived with her all that while and was stranded with her the last few days, Lyra was certain that Mrs. Coulter found part of him to be unsuitable.

It wasn't so much that she was petty. As awfully conceited as she may appear, Mrs. Coulter was rather open-minded. She had class and expected others to follow suit, and she would never outright diminish another just for being of a lower class. She knew how fortunate she was, and as Lyra vaguely remembered from back in London, Mrs. Coulter had told her to always greet every person with a warm, genuine smile, since it was what a respectable person ought to naturally do.

However, she had her moments, like now. She was biting her lip ever so slightly, and Lyra could see her eyes narrowing in calculated decisiveness. Her hands were casually holding her glittery clutch purse, but the golden monkey was shifting impatiently at her feet, cracking his knuckles.

I still can't believe how horrible he can be. Lyra felt Pan shudder against her socks. He was completely awful back in London, Lyra. I hated him so much, and even now, I don't really know what to feel…

And it was all very strange, Lyra knew. She'd admit that it was downright confusing. For the better part of a couple months, Lyra had lived her life out of determination to rescue the kidnapped kids and out of fear of running into Mrs. Coulter. Now that the Gyptians had the kids safely stowed away amongst their ranks and now that Lyra was again with Mrs. Coulter, with whom she now felt comfortable despite all her fear, Lyra felt sort of lost. She had her closure with the rescued kids, but she also had this weird emotion swelling in her heart when it came to her mother.

Pan wiggled uncomfortably, and Lyra understood. Mrs. Coulter had undoubtedly done some horrible things, but especially since the time they've been together, she was also so nice and giving. She put Lyra's needs before her own and had a way of making her feel safe and warm. Lyra knew that she shouldn't feel such feelings since Mrs. Coulter had lured and betrayed her friends back at Oxford, but when it came down to it, Mrs. Coulter was her mother.

And as her mother, Mrs. Coulter was meant to feed Lyra, to comfort her, to wash her, to love was that what Lyra really wanted? Did she want things to go back to how they were before she knew anything about the truth? Did she want to risk the chance of being another kind of pampered pet?

And then there was Lord Asriel, now recognized to be Lyra's father. He'd lied to her for all those years, and part of Lyra yearned to understand why and yearned for him to have told her and raised her. Of course she would have wanted her mother to be there, too, but Mrs. Coulter was so different. Lyra couldn't see her and Lord Asriel ever living together, and the thought made her very sad and again just so confused.

By now they were all seated at the dining table, eating dinner. Lyra was sitting across from Lord Asriel and next to Mrs. Coulter, who had been watching her closely. Looking over at her, Lyra's eyes met her clear blue gaze, and Lyra sensed some concern along with underlying suspicion nestled within their depths. Lyra merely nodded slightly and then turned her focus over to the men, who were having some kind of loud debate about witches.

"Awfully savvy creatures, they are," Adolfo was saying, helping himself to more Tokay. "Met a couple outside in the woods a few years back. Very beautiful, but very dangerous!"

"Yes, one does need to exercise extreme caution." Lord Asriel let out a short laugh. "To reject a witch is to practically place an inevitable arrow into the core of your heart. I've seen many wallow away their lives over such love." His eyes briefly looked at Mrs. Coulter but then flicked away again, as if by natural happenstance. Lyra didn't really understand, and she realized that she actually didn't care. She was feeling rather sleepy now that she thought about it.

"And what about you, my dear?" Adolfo was now speaking to Mrs. Coulter, his voice a little slurred. "What do you think of the witches? Do you find their beauty threatening?"

Mrs. Coulter chuckled softly before raising her wine glass to her lips, her eyes soft as they shined back at Adolfo. He looked rather pleased with himself, and he sipped some more wine before she answered. "I dare say that they're quite incredible beings. But as far as I'm concerned, I've got everything I'll ever need." She paused to gaze at Asriel and then at Lyra, briefly touching her hair. "No witch and her appearance could be a threat to me because I know the concept of real beauty."

"Well said, well said!" Adolfo was clapping his hands, his cheeks growing redder with every glass of wine that he consumed. "That deserves a toast! Up with everyone's glasses!"

Stifling a yawn, Lyra saw the three adults put their classes into the air. Mrs. Coulter nudged Lya's glass of chocolaytl, and after a slow moment, Lyra picked it up, mimicking the way everyone else was holding it.

"To the Belacqua family," Adolfo puffed, sheer delight rolling off of him. "To Asriel and his strength, to Marisa and her grace, and to little Lyra and her spirit."

They then all took sips, and Lyra leaned back in her chair, Pan crawling into her lap as a pretty calico cat. He wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and sleep in a nice, warm bed, and vaguely, Lyra wondered if they were even going to find a bed. Her eyes drooping, she wondered where they were going to stay, but all that really matter was how warm and well-fed she felt.

Tender hands touched the side of her head, and Lyra blinked her eyes open to see Mrs. Coulter. She was faintly aware of voices softening and chairs grunting across the floor, and then she felt someone much stronger lifting her up as her eyes closed again.

"Thank you so much for the meal," she heard Lord Asriel say. She then heard a light, musical voice chime in about Adolfo's hospitality. Pan yawned, his little paw brushing against his nose, and then they both felt extreme cold as they moved outside and out of the house.

Lyra's father was still carrying her, but when they entered another building, which was a bit drafty compared to Adolfo's house, he put her down and went over to the front desk of a hotel. Lyra tottered a little bit, still half-asleep, but Mrs. Coulter was there, her fur warm and soft as Lyra leaned against her.

"You must be so tired, my love," she crooned, running a hand along Lyra's arm. "Are you ready for bed?"

"Mmm," said Lyra, still trying to wake herself up.

It wasn't that Lyra was weak or anything. Back in the North, she went many hours without sleep and many days without proper bedding. She was very well used to having to cope with little to no sleep, but after receiving the first full meal she's had in days along with probably a bit too much chocolaytl, she just couldn't keep her eyes open. She was reminded of when she first arrived at Bolvangar and was given some kind of sleeping pill, but this was different. This was real and draining; this was emotional and physical exhaustion.

But Mrs. Coulter was there to take care of her. Putting an arm around her shoulder, she urged Lyra down the hallway and then led her into a room, finally carrying her over to the bed. Lyra let her mother take off her jacket and her boots before laying her down in the bed, draping the covers around her and then planting a soft, scented kiss on the top of her forehead.

"Sleep well, my angel."

Lyra heard the quiet click of her heels as she moved towards the door and then sensed the shift of light as Mrs. Coulter put out the light. Yawning and stretching out as far as her body would allow her, Pan curled up along her side as a husky pup, Lyra felt completely and utterly content.

It didn't matter where she was or why she was there. For the first time ever, Lyra was with her parents, and even if it was all some kind of strange, complicated game, they were taking care of her and acting like a family. Lyra had wanted a family her entire life, and now in the most peculiar of circumstances, she found her lifelong wish to be granted.

Just go to sleep, Pan thought, his own consciousness starting to dwindle with hers. She sensed him squirming a little bit, and she didn't think it was entirely due to his sleepiness. Stop overthinking things. Let's just go to sleep and figure everything out later.