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

A/N: Hi, everyone! Here's another chapter (hopefully you'll like the twist!). Let me know what you think! Thank you SO much for reading!

NOTE: Revised 6/9/17

Luxurious Lies

23.

Sizzling Surprises

His gray eyes followed her skinny figure as she raced down the fairly-crowded street, her daemon soaring above her as a golden owl. Stelmaria was purring, her sleek, spotted tail resting comfortably against his leg, and Lord Asriel could admit that he felt a sense of security as he watched his daughter return to the Gyptians.

"I think we've finally got her," he murmured, his eyes still trained on her increasingly diminishing figure. "I think we're finally done, Stelmaria."

"I wouldn't be so sure." Her voice was crisp. "You know that the Coulter woman won't give up so easily. I'm sure she has patrols looking for her at this very moment."

Indeed, as Lord Asriel severed his gaze from Lyra and turned to look around him, he saw men in burgundy coats marching through the streets, stopping passerby and shoving photographs in their faces. Pulling his hood up to cover his own face, Lord Asriel made for the shadows of a nearby building and hid inside a small crevice, Stelmaria on all fours beside him.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered to her, feeling his muscles tense as the soldiers drew nearer. "I feel like a prisoner in the very town I helped establish. Just what is the justification for that?"

It was true that Lord Asriel had played a significant role in Trollesund's economic and political position. He had first stumbled upon the town during the preliminary stretches of his earliest research, and he had recognized the potential of the town to serve as a hub of pre-Northern departures. Upon his return to Oxford, he advocated the town and spread word of its ideal location, and in a matter of months the town became a hustle of activity and trade.

Yet there he was hiding behind a building from soldiers of the Magisterial army due to his former lover's malice. He couldn't even walk in the open without risking imprisonment or impending death, and the entire matter was so frustratingly preposterous that Lord Asriel could smash the entirety of the wooden house before him. Marisa had truly ruined his life, and she made everything much more complicated than it ever had to be.

But as angry as he was and as unfair as it all was, Lord Asriel knew that he couldn't change it. Pressing himself closer to the wall as he heard the footsteps of the soldiers, he knew that he had no choice but to sneak around one more time before returning back to Oxford. He didn't know what would happen afterward or how he would go about keeping Lyra out of Marisa's hands, but he knew the only way to do it was to leave the North completely.

The hard part, he knew, was merely getting his way across a town that was trained and groomed to attack him on first sight.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Lyra didn't really know where to go, but it didn't really matter. Pan flew ahead of her and surveyed their surroundings, looking for the Gyptians and keeping his eyes peeled for any Magisterial officers, and Lyra just continued to carry onward, running past people, packages, and buildings.

Do you see the Gyptians? Lyra thought to her daemon.

No, but I see where the boats are.

That was good enough for Lyra. The Gyptians, as she'd learned from the alethiometer, had moved on with the kids but had a smaller ship still docked at Trollesund. They'd waited for her, actually waited for her. They wanted to be with her and would bring her home after all that she'd been through. Isn't that what she wanted?

But isn't that what Mrs. Coulter wanted to do, too?

As Lyra moved forward and followed her daemon's path, she turned her head to see a group of people being questioned by an officer and stopped.

He wore a long, burgundy coat and a tall black hat, and his greyhound daemon stood stoutly at his side, her ears pricked as she patrolled the area. Quickly, Lyra threw up her hood and went behind a nearby crate stacked high with fish, hiding both her body and her scent. Pan transformed into a moth and fluttered closer to the people, listening intently.

"Have you seen this child?" The man brandished a photograph of Lyra, putting it in front of each person's face.

"No," they all replied, shaking their heads. "But there are a lot of children running about, so we can't know for sure. Isn't that the same girl you were looking for back in London?"

Chills ran down Lyra's spine. Pan gave a wild flutter, and Lyra felt frozen to the spot as she realized Mrs. Coulter's earlier exploits could still haunt her. It had felt like a lifetime since she had been back in London, but apparently it wasn't too far off in the distance if people still remembered her face.

It was incredible how much had happened since Lyra had first run away from her mother. She and Mrs. Coulter had bonded and gotten so close, but in the end, Lyra had been wrong about her. She didn't really change; she merely got better at hiding her true intentions. Lyra could never forgive her mother for bringing her back to the Magisterium after all that talk about keeping her safe, and the realization made her feel both angry and sad.

The soldier continued to interrogate the group for a few minutes before stepping away and continuing his search, luckily moving to the other side of the fish crate. When Pan came back to Lyra and hovered by her ear, Lyra bundled up in her furs and continued toward the boats, Pan guiding her with soft murmurs.

She finally reached the harbor, feeling the wind slap across her face and hearing the seagulls cry from the distance, and as she wandered around the docks, taking care to hide her face, she finally saw someone familiar.

"Farder Coram!"

All inhibitions aside, Lyra threw down her hood and raced over to him, feeling an emotion of such strong happiness and relief. As he put his arms around her and held her close to him, Farder Coram murmured soft words in her ears as the other members of the crew came clambering down to greet her. Their faces lit up and they threw swear words at her, and Lyra couldn't remember ever feeling so happy.

As she thought that, though, a long fox coat flitted from her memory and the open arms of her mother mentally appeared. Lyra remembered how warm and comfortable her mother's embrace was, and she remembered how safe she had felt, how right it all was.

Pan, playing with one of the crew's terrier daemons as a stout golden retriever, felt Lyra's uncertainly and came over to lick her leg. It's okay, Lyra. He gave her leg a nudge. It's okay to remember, but it's also okay to move on.

"We were so worried about you, child." Farder Coram placed his hands around Lyra's face, gazing at her. Lyra could see his gray-flecked beard and his heavy eyebrows, but most of all, she could see his bright, warm eyes. "We never thought we'd see you again."

They really care about us, thought Pan, walking beside Lyra as they were quickly led onto the ship, watching out for Magisterium soldiers. All this time we've been gone yet they still care about us.

What a remarkable thing love was, Lyra realized. Here were people who had helped raise her, who had taken every risk in the world just to help her. That must be love, and even though she had thought Mrs. Coulter loved her, Lyra realized just how strange it all seemed. Mrs. Coulter was absent for most of her life, and she had only just recently come back to care for her. There was a point a few days prior where Lyra wanted nothing more than to travel the regions of the North forever by Mrs. Coulter's side, but as she fell in amongst the Gyptians and made her way around the ship, Lyra just wasn't sure anymore.

"Here's your room, Miss Lyra." Farder Coram gestured toward the cubby right by the steam room. It was the same room she had stayed in before. Lyra remembered how she'd been confined to the space beneath the floor when the Magisterial soldiers had boarded to hunt her down. "We've rented it out in your absence, but it's still there just for you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some things I need to take care of. We'll catch up later, my child."

And with that he left, making his way slowly back toward the front of the ship. Lyra stood there and stared after him, still not believing that she was back and that she was on her way home to her Jordan. She still couldn't fathom how she and Lord Asriel had successfully freed the children, and though she didn't know where they were or what would happen next, she trusted that Lord Asriel would take care of it. No one told her anything about it, but deep down, Lyra knew it would all be okay.

Entering into her room, Lyra closed the door and put her rucksack on the bed, taking out the alethiometer and her various belongings. Pan was grooming himself as a tabby cat on the nightstand, and Lyra felt the slow and familiar bobbing of the ship as it departed back toward Oxford. It was comforting and soothing to her, and she couldn't believe that, in another life, this was all that she knew and all that she wanted.

It's funny how things change over time. Lyra had witnessed too much of that. It felt like her entire life was flickering like photograms and that nothing remained the same. All she'd wanted since she left London was to go home to Jordan, and even as she was on her way there at that very moment, it all felt different. She'd experienced things that changed her perspective on the world, and in the end, everything felt a bit foreign and removed.

As she unpacked the three dresses she had left and walked toward her wardrobe, however, she heard a noise. It wasn't the swishing and gurgling of the ocean or the bangs and scuffles of the crew but a quiet scratching noise. It was coming from the tall, chipped wardrobe.

Curious, Pan transformed into an ermine and approached it, his ears pricked.

"What is it?"

"I dunno," said Lyra, stepping closer herself. "Might be a mouse. Want me to open it up for you?"

With an excited growl, Pan transformed mid-air back into his tabby cat form and waited near the wardrobe, his ears flat on his head and his haunches wiggling in the air.

As quietly as she could, Lyra crept closer and placed her hand on the wooden handle, exchanging a gleeful look with Pan.

When she nodded to him and swung the door open, however, her smile changed to a shocked grimace as she stared at what was inside, her knees wobbling and adrenaline rushing to her temples.

Standing there against the back of the wardrobe with her daemon perched on her shoulder was Mrs. Coulter.