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

EDITED SINCE 6/14. I added the last section that was originally meant for Ch. 28.

A/N: Hi, everyone! Thank you SO much for all the reviews after my last update. I'm so happy you all enjoy the story! I've had a lot of time recently to work on this story, so here's the next update! I'm not sure if I'll be able to update as often as this from now on, but I'll try.

Thanks again, and please let me know what you think! The story as a whole is primarily about Mrs. Coulter, and I'm trying to blend the Mrs. Coulter/Lyra and Mrs. Coulter/Asriel action so that everyone can read something that they like :) This one is definitely more about Mrs. Coulter and all her various emotions, and I hope you like it!

Luxurious Lies

27.

Deep Deductions

Taking care not to wake Lyra, Mrs. Coulter moved around their little bedroom and took some fresh, clean bed sheets out from the rickety wardrobe. Lyra had been sweating through so many of them lately, and even though Mrs. Coulter had instructed Lord Asriel to bring two fresh sets every day, it still didn't seem good enough since the fabric was made of such thin, cheap cotton. Indeed, Mrs. Coulter realized, her nose crinkling, nothing was good enough on this dank, barbaric ship. The food was greasy, the portions were small, the washrooms were filthy – why would she expect the quality of the sheets to be any different? In all truth, Mrs. Coulter couldn't wait to leave that hell hole and return to her comfortable abode back in London.

If we ever make it there. Mrs. Coulter felt the golden monkey brush by her roughly, almost causing her to lose her balance, and she shared the deep, burning fear that coursed through his system. Her daemon was right (as he so often was), and Mrs. Coulter didn't know what to think. She was supposed to be back in Bolvangar resuming her operations there, but naturally she couldn't go through with it after what happened to Lyra. The bishop had spoken to her exclusively and had told her exactly what to do, but she didn't. She did as she pleased, and now she had to suffer the consequences.

The entire ordeal gave her a headache, and she tried not to think too much about it. She was sure that people would be searching for her back in London, and unless she had a very good reason for why she returned to Brytain instead of Bolvangar, she was sure to be tried in court for some variation of heresy. But for now, all that mattered was Lyra. She would figure out what to do when the moment came closer.

Sighing, Mrs. Coulter placed the sheets on the foot of Lyra's bed and then went over to the nightstand, picking up the towel soaking in water. While the golden monkey raced over to the wooden chair padded down with pillows and an extra sheet, Mrs. Coulter turned to her daughter and gently pressed the towel to her forehead. Her fever burned through the linen, and Mrs. Coulter couldn't help but frown. This was not good, and there was nothing she could do for the child.

This is what it would be like, the monkey thought to her, finishing his pillow-fluffing and sitting down on the cloth. Day in and day out you'd be caring for her, doting on her – dropping everything you do to cater to her while constantly worrying about her. Is that what you want? Isn't that why we decided to give her away?

Mrs. Coulter cringed before sitting down on the bed, feeling wounded as if he had shot her. Of all her memories, that was the one she never wanted to revisit. It was locked into the furthest, most distant part of her heart, and if she were being honest with herself, she was ashamed of it. What kind of mother was she to just abandon her child and carry on with life as if she had never been born? What kind of woman was she to ignore those deep, unbearable longings she had to simply see her child and hold her in her arms once more?

Mrs. Coulter had made numerous mistakes in her thirty five years of life, and she knew that she had to accept them. However, she was nowhere close to being able to forgiveherself for her sins and for her actions, and she ultimately never knew if such forgiveness was even possible.

"Mmmm?" Lyra moved her foot just then, and Mrs. Coulter jumped with a start. "Wuz goin' on?"

In a flash, Mrs. Coulter was there, right by her side. "Shh, my love. Everything's alright. Momma's just here to wash you."

Momma, the golden monkey practically sneered, his teeth chattering. Is that what you want to be? Some spoiled brat's Momma?

Enough. She had said it before, but now, Mrs. Coulter truly meant it. Her daemon had been tormenting her for far too long. I've had enough of your mockery. Just drop it!

"Momma," said Lyra, her voice raspy. Mrs. Coulter stopped, staring over at her. The golden monkey's sharp feelings of betrayal still lingered through her mind, but Mrs. Coulter's heart began to race. Was Lyra merely repeating what she had said, or was she…? Could she really want…?

"Momma!" It was definitely a call, and with a thousand emotions exploding inside of her heart, Mrs. Coulter leaned over and pressed her lips to her daughter's cheek and ran her fingers through her hair.

"I'm here, darling." She kissed her cheek, her nose, her eyes, her forehead – she kissed every visible surface of her face. "I'm here for you, my dear, sweet Lyra. And I'll never, ever leave you. I promise."

In the end, that was all she wanted. As she did her best to love and kiss her daughter back to health, Mrs. Coulter realized that this was all that she ever wanted. Prestige and power were nothing compared to this, and even though the golden monkey screeched and recoiled away from these feelings, Mrs. Coulter wasn't going to let them go. It was all she had left now, and she would fight to keep them alive.

"My throat hurts," Lyra complained, opening her eyes slightly before closing them from the bright glare of the lamp.

"How can I make it better?" Mrs. Coulter fretted, smoothing down the bed covers and wiping the hair off the girl's face. "What do you need?"

"Can't you get some medicine?" Lyra's little hand found its way into Mrs. Coulter's, and Mrs. Coulter took it and squeezed gently, lowering her face to kiss it. "The Gyptians got to have medicine. Can't you please get some and make it stop?"

The truth, Mrs. Coulter knew, was that no medicine could take away the pain Lyra was going through. She had heard the doctor through the wardrobe, and he had clearly stated that rest, nutrients, and hygiene were the only cures for Lyra's condition. But sitting there listening to her moans and pleas, Mrs. Coulter wanted to help her. Whether the medicine worked or not, she wanted to do something to make her daughter love her and trust her.

"I'll find something, my love." Pleased with the response, Lyra smiled before closing her eyes again, drifting off into broken, restless sleep.

Where will we go?

To find Asriel. Mrs. Coulter took the golden monkey into her arms, holding him tight as she approached the door. He was still bitter, she knew, but they were one, and they loved each other dearly despite their differences.

It was the sign of a truly conflicted soul to have such differing opinions than her daemon, but Mrs. Coulter understood that she'd always had the most intricate of emotions. She and the monkey had fought all throughout their childhood as they decided on what to do in life and how to go about being truly happy and fulfilled, and during Lyra's accidental pregnancy, he had been most displeased.

"Get rid of it!" he had shouted at her, his black, beady eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. "This won't help anything! And you know it!"

"I can't," she had cried, her tears smudging up her carefully-applied makeup and spreading down to the top of her dress. "Can't you understand the way I feel? Can't you understand these hormones? I just can't do it!"

In all essence, the golden monkey had always been the mind while Mrs. Coulter had been the heart and soul. He was aloof and distant when it came to interactions with people, and though Mrs. Coulter herself was cool and calculating, certain feelings couldn't escape her, like those maternal aches she felt for Lyra. She didn't know how women were supposed to deal with such things, and ultimately, Mrs. Coulter felt battered and broken to feel such resentment from her daemon and, at times, from her own daughter.

"It's alright," the golden monkey told her. As they slipped out the door and jumped down to the lifeboats, he twisted up to hold her face in his hands and nuzzle her nose with his cheek. "I know you feel things that I somehow can't, and I'm sorry. I just don't understand sometimes."

"How sweet," she murmured, cradling him in her arms as she so often did after their quarrels. His soft, lustrous fur had always been her favorite blanket. "I love you so much, and I'm sorry, too." A tear fell from her eye, and he caught it. "I truly am."

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

When she found him, Mrs. Coulter was hidden behind a large, oversized barrel. He was talking to that witch called Serafina Pekkala, and she watched their exchange anxiously, waiting for them to finish so that she could quietly signal Lord Asriel. The golden monkey clung to her shoulders and dug his claws deep into her flesh, and Mrs. Coulter held her breath, waiting. What did the witch even want? Why hadn't she left yet?

Then, completely out of the blue, it seemed, Serafina swooped down and kissed Lord Asriel full on the lips, her hands moving to run through his thick, curly hair.

It was as if something had snapped inside Mrs. Coulter. Their relationship had long been over, yet nonetheless, Mrs. Coulter couldn't help the hot, burning sensation that surged from her chest up to her ears. It felt as if wet candle wax was being poured all over her body, and for a moment, everything went blank. The golden monkey thrashed his tail wildly, and Mrs. Coulter fought back a strange urge to run over there and tackle Serafina to the ground.

Don't be ridiculous, the golden monkey dismissed. You know we're not in a position to do that, Marisa. Stay calm.

But Asriel! My Asriel… The golden monkey embraced her then, for regardless of how much he disapproved, he understood. When it came to Lord Asriel, he always understood. Oh, darling, what are we supposed to do?

Regardless of how hard she tried to deny it, Mrs. Coulter loved Lord Asriel Belacqua as she had never loved any man before him. Truth be told, Edward had been merely a name and a status symbol. She had made that perfectly clear when they had married, but it seemed that he had forgotten it. She'd spent years meeting with Lord Asriel in locked classrooms and empty library floors, and despite the pain the affair's revelation put her through, she wouldn't trade it for the world; she wouldn't have lived her life any other way

Finally, the witch left and Lord Asriel remained where he was, wearing the strangest expression on his face. He looked lost and confused, and it made Mrs. Coulter laugh coldly. As if he hadn't been planning and plotting this all along! As if he wasn't relishing every moment!

But when, by chance, his eyes swiveled to her direction and caught sight of her, she couldn't maintain that sudden burst of anger. Instead, she felt every feeling she had ever felt for Lord Asriel crystalize in her eyes, and as he stared at her, she felt as if she were looking into a mirror.

He started for her then, his arms moving toward her, but Mrs. Coulter knew that it was too late. Once you seduced a witch, there was no going back. And if you betrayed a witch, she would kill you with her bow and arrow, shooting you straight through the heart that belonged exclusively to her.

Sadness unlike any other filled Mrs. Coulter's heart, and even as Lord Asriel embraced her and held her, rubbing her back and brushing his lips against her cheek, she still felt empty and lifeless. He was her only hope and her only love, and now, any future with him would risk both of their lives.