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

A/N: Hi, everyone! I'm sorry for the delay on this chapter. I was stuck for a little bit, but I finally found the inspiration and the direction to continue in! I really appreciate all of you following this story for so long, and I'm trying very hard to write it the best that I can. I really love these characters, and I want more than anything to simply write and explore the untold stories that might have happened between them.

Thanks so much for reading! Please let me know what you think! :)

Luxurious Lies

29.

Churning Charges

Rubbing her sore, throbbing head, Serafina Pekkala lifted herself up, taking in her surroundings. Her entire body hurt, which wasn't something a witch experienced very often, and a faint, constant buzzing filled her ears. It felt like she had just been hit full-on by an armored bear. She couldn't believe the amount of pain that spread throughout her aching body.

As Serafina looked around, she recognized the dim, filtered room of Lyra's cabin, and she felt the cold, sticky sweat of Lyra's bed. It was frankly quite disgusting, but why would she be there in the first place? Serafina remembered sneaking into Lyra's room and she remembered an altercation with Asriel, but what had happened after that?

Vaguely, she recalled a fleeting view of blonde hair and blue eyes – murderously cold blue eyes. That image was branded into Serafina's head, and also, she remembered someone coming up behind her with a heavy black pan – the very same pan lying right there on the wooden floor. That was all she could remember, though. Who could it have been, and where had everyone gone? How could Asriel just leave her like that?

"Serafina!" The door burst open, and Kaisa was there, his goose eyes wide and his feathers completely disheveled. Instantly, that tucked-away pang of longing was removed from Serafina's heart as she opened her arms and he flew into them, their beating hearts pressed together. Though a witch and her daemon could be separated by several hundred miles, they still felt the same loneliness that regular humans felt. It didn't affect them as deeply, of course, but it still hurt.

"What happened, Serafina?"

"I don't know! Darling, I don't know!"

Her memory was a blur, and she focused as hard as she could on that quick flash of blonde hair and blue eyes. Thinking harder, Serafina could remember that the figure seemed feminine with hair pins and makeup around the eyes, but what kind of female could do such a thing? Were there even any females on board besides Lyra? Who could it possibly be?

Suddenly, comprehension dawned on her, and Serafina understood. Narrowing her eyes, Serafina remembered the malicious glare of those blue eyes nestled on the most angelic of pretty faces. It was a face she had seen before, and it was one that she knew she'd have come across eventually. Still shaking her head with disbelief, Serafina grabbed her bow and arrow from her back and headed toward the door, her face now chalk white with fury.

"Marisa Coulter," she said under her breath, collecting her pine cloud from its hiding place and taking off into the air, Kaisa by her side. "Marisa Coulter. I've had enough of you, and now is the time for you to finally pay for all of your crimes."

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

"You're not making any sense, Asriel."

"I am! Stop and listen, Marisa. All you ever do is question me."

"I am listening, Asriel, and I'm sorry if I appear combative, but I just don't understand. How can you possibly expect me to go back to the Magisterium without any retribution? How can you expect them to completely disregard my prolonged disappearance?"

Although they were hiding under a bridge outside of London with little food, little water, little supplies, and no idea where they would be going next, Mrs. Coulter wasn't angry. She knew it wasn't Lord Asriel's fault that a witch had gotten herself involved in their affairs, and she knew that he was doing the best he could to keep them safe and keep them focused. She knew that everything was going the best that it possibly could be, and she wasn't angry at Lord Asriel for any of that. She honestly wasn't.

However, a part of Mrs. Coulter couldn't help but feel irritated, as was shown by the thrashing of the golden monkey's tail and the sharpness of her tone. She was put into an extremely complicated, uncomfortable position, and quite honestly, she was offended at how easily he disregarded this difficulty. She worked for the Magisterium for over ten years, and he expected her to betray them so simply? He expected her to easily be able to combine her personal and professional lives when they'd been tearing her apart since the very beginning? Men were such ignorant fools! Especially Lord Asriel!

"Listen to me," he finally said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He always had quite the nasty temper, and Mrs. Coulter knew that he needed time to slow down and compose himself, even though it hardly worked. He was the wildest, most temperamental man she knew, and when he was in the middle of a fit, nothing could calm him down. It just wasn't in his nature.

"I know that there will be consequences for your recent actions, but they can't be that bad, am I right?" His eyes were searching hers – pleading with her – and Mrs. Coulter merely stared at him. "Maybe you'll be fined, maybe you'll be put on probation – I don't know, and frankly, I don't care. As far as I'm concerned, we need to get you back onto the front line to see where they're going and figure out what they're planning so that we can make our move and take action. Can you understand that, Marisa?"

"I do, I sincerely do, but there's one little problem."

"And what is that?"

"What about Lyra?"

As she mentioned her daughter's name, Mrs. Coulter looked down at the girl. She was holding onto her hand and stroking her daemon, who was curled around her neck as an ermine, and she looked so small and so helpless. Mrs. Coulter knew that Lyra was by no means helpless and that she had accomplished more things than many of her seasoned seniors, but when it came to intricate matters such as this, Lyra was helpless. She was caught in a web far too complex for her to understand and to navigate, and it was all Mrs. Coulter's fault.

It's not all your fault, the golden monkey reminded her, sneering. It's also his fault. Do you really think we'd be in the middle of this if it weren't for him?

Honestly, Mrs. Coulter didn't know. Just a week ago she pictured herself to currently be back in London with Lyra, living the life she'd always dreamed of living as a mother and a socialite. She'd have figured out something to say to the Magisterium, and she'd have done her work some other way so that she could keep both her status and her child; she'd have done the things that she should have done twelve and a half years ago, and everything would have turned out in her favor. Hadn't it always?

But as she continued to stand there huddled under a bridge with her daughter and former lover by her side, Mrs. Coulter knew that she wouldn't have that kind of life for quite some time yet. Problems had to be sorted out and delicacies had to be considered, but it would only be a matter of time. Mrs. Coulter could almost taste it.

"Well," she said, not waiting for his response as she gathered Lyra up in a hug and felt the golden monkey clamp tightly down on her shoulders, "we won't get anywhere if we don't get a proper meal and a good night's rest. Shall we see what kind of place we can find?"

The only hotel available on the outskirts of the city where no one would recognize Mrs. Coulter was a dingy little dump called the River Bank Inn. The owner had charged what Mrs. Coulter considered an incredibly hefty sum for a one night room, but she paid the bill and let the manager escort them to their room, as sweet and lovely as she always had to be.

"Here we are, ma'am," he said, opening the key to room eleven and gesturing for the group to enter. "Two beds, a private bathroom, and a fresh set of linens. Dinner is being served next door in the lounge, and the bar is just around the corner. I'll be back in the lobby, and please don't hesitate to let me know how I can help make your stay as comforting as it can be."

There was a time in Mrs. Coulter's life where she had traveled nearly every day and bounced from hotel to hotel. She had actually enjoyed the experience since she didn't feel tied down or locked into anything, but now that she had Lyra, she wished more than anything that she could be going home and tucking her into her own, permanent bed.

This was really all Mrs. Coulter wanted, and with a sigh, she knew that there was nothing the manager could do to soothe that yearning and make her feel truly comfortable.

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

Serafina waited patiently in the bushes, aware that Kaisa was flying all around London looking for them. She honestly hadn't done much work in the urban areas, and a part of her felt uncomfortable to reveal herself to the general public there. Most of them had probably never heard of the witches in the North, and Serafina couldn't even imagine how wild and foreign she would appear to them. Thankfully Serafina had Kaisa to do her scouting for her, which was as good as if she had done so herself.

After an hour or so, he was finally back, breathing hard as he fluttered atop a nearby tree branch.

"Did you find them?"

"Yes," he panted, ruffling his feathers. "They're staying at a small hotel on the outskirts of the city."

A hotel? That was strange. Serafina expected Marisa to flee back to the Magisterium so that she could hide behind their money and their guns. That's all she ever seemed to do in her nasty business with them, so surely she would do the same in this situation. Wasn't she a shallow, predictable bitch, after all?

"What should we do now, Serafina?"

"We should wait." Indeed, all Serafian wanted to do was wait. She wanted to watch them from afar and observe their behaviors. She wanted to follow them, predict their next moves, figure out their plan; she wanted to make them completely forget about her so that, once she returned, forgotten fear will flood their faces as they took their last breaths.

"Let's go," Serafina instructed, hopping onto her cloud pine and flying toward the image in Kaisa's mind. A wild smile spread across her lips, and as the cool night air tickled Serafina's face, she felt an odd sort of happiness mixed in with her rage and her aching, breaking heart.

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

"Marisa?" His voice was a whisper, but Mrs. Coulter could hear him crystal clear.

"What is it, Asriel?" It was nearly two o'clock in the morning, and Mrs. Coulter was staring up at the white, slightly-peeling ceiling. Lyra slept peacefully beside her, her breaths rising and falling softly like the gentle night's breeze, and Lord Asriel was clearly awake in his own bed. Mrs. Coulter could hear Stelmaria's steps as she paced the wooden floor.

"I've been thinking about what you said earlier, and I think she should go with you."

"Go with me where?" Though she had too much on her mind to fall asleep, Mrs. Coulter was tired. Her head was whirling in a thousand different directions, and she could feel her mind start to spin off into exhaustion. She willed herself to stay awake, though, and the golden monkey sat up and pricked his ears, trying hard not to yawn.

"To wherever the Magisterium makes you go. I don't know why you have such an infatuation with Lyra and I don't know where all these maternal instincts came from, but I think it can be useful, Marisa."

"Useful," Mrs. Coulter repeated, feeling herself snort with the words. She turned around so that her back was facing his bed. "I'm glad that my feelings can somehow fit into your master plan, Asriel."

After a few moments, he said something that Mrs. Coulter never could have expected.

"I do think your connection with Lyra can be useful in the grander scheme of my plans, but that's not what I meant." Mrs. Coulter shifted her head so that her ear was free. "I can tell that you're sincere, and I think your affection and your nurturing is good for Lyra. She's been around men her entire life, and though I hate to admit it, you're a rather useful parental figure. Honestly," he added, his voice lowering, "I think you're better for her than I am."

Things had been complicated between Mrs. Coulter and Lord Asriel since their departure from the Gyptian ship, but at that moment, it felt as if a brick wall collapsed between the two. There was something magnetic in the air, and Mrs. Coulter rolled back around, finding his eyes trained on hers.

"Do you mean that?"

"I do."

"You're not just saying that?"

"I'm not."

"But why would you say that?"

"Because it's true."

"When did you start to think that?"

"When I saw you burst into that cabin with an iron pan and beat the living daylights out of a magical witch."

There was silence for a moment, and Mrs. Coulter's heart was pounding so loud that she feared it would wake Lyra. "Oh, Asriel…"

As if in a dream, Mrs. Coulter uncovered herself and got out of the bed, approaching Lord Asriel's. Stelmaria stepped aside, and before Mrs. Coulter knew what was happening, she was in his bed with him and he was holding her tight, his fingers slowly stroking her hair.

"What does this mean, Asriel?" she asked, lifting her head up to kiss his jaw. "What does this make us?"

"Does it matter?" was the gruff response, but he kissed her back. "Let's not make it any more complicated than it needs to be, Marisa. Let's take it one day at a time."

They continued to lay like that, she next to him with his legs intertwined with hers, and their daughter slept in the bed next to them, completely unaware of what was transpiring.

Outside the window, however, a long, sleek goose was watching their every move. His beady eyes were trained on their figures moving around beneath the sheets, and his neck was stiffened in the most alert of manners.