Disclaimer: I do not own the His Dark Materials Series.
A/N: Hello, everyone! I know it'd been so long since I've updated, but here is the next installment of this story, which extends Part 2: After the North. I've recently come back to this story and have some thoughts swirling—stayed tuned! Also, in case you're interested, I've been writing another Lyra/Mrs. Coulter story called Golden Auroras that's admittedly been consuming more of my energy and focus. It's about Mrs. Coulter choosing to go with Lyra into the other world after Asriel creates the bridge at the end of book 1. This story explores how the plot with Will and the resulting events might have changed. It's similar to this one, I suppose, except it centers more on the multi-world aspect of the stories, as well as the mother-daughter relationship.
Anyway, thanks so much for reading! I'd love to hear what you think, about this story and any of my others :) I love these characters so much and just love creating new material for them.
Luxurious Lies
46.
A Storied History
They were headed North, which perhaps should have excited Lyra but, ultimately, didn't.
It was strange, how much things had changed. The past six months felt more like a blur and also like a long, boring stretch of time stuck within the walls of Jordan. Lyra thus enjoyed traveling with the Gyptians again, even as times and contexts had changed, and as her future felt shrouded in some kind of complicated mystery. Farder Coram was a wonderful companion, with his wisdom and lessons and grand stories of adventuring. They never bored here, to this day and after all she'd seen herself. She trusted him, and he trusted her. And Lyra appreciated that.
A small group of them were carefully picking their way up North, like they'd done all those months ago. Lyra had made this trip a few times now, in her travels with the Gyptians and also with her parents. It was those experiences that made her pause now, and remember the intensity and severity that had accompanied them during those times.
Where are my parents now? she wondered as they traveled further Northeast than she had ventured before. It was milder this way, although still arctic. Pan walked beside her as a small white wolf, sniffing the air and keeping watch.
Who knows, he thought back to her, feeling her curiosity and her frustration and, above that, her innate loneliness.
It was hard not to feel completely and utterly abandoned. Lyra had been used to it as a child, believing she was an orphan. She grew up to have infrequent contact with the only relative she'd ever known and instead primarily bathed in the attention of strangers and Scholars who somehow cared about her well-being. She'd watched the Gyptian children and their families, and the way they interacted with one another. Little boys and girls ran into their mothers' open arms. Older children had their fathers shake them by the shoulder and show them how to do some kind of grown-up trade.
Everybody had someone, except Lyra.
When she did have someone, it wasn't enough. In all those years, it never occurred to her that Lord Asriel might actually be her father. It made sense, the more she thought about it and the older she became. Why else would he check back in and so adamantly make sure she was staying safe and out of trouble? Learning the truth about his identity had made her happier than she'd expected to be, especially when compared to her feelings about her mother. When she'd first met Mrs. Coulter, Lyra would have been thrilled to discover that she was her daughter. And then things changed, and they changed again, and now changed yet again.
Nothing was consistent in Lyra's life, it seemed. Things happened to her and she ran with them until she had to run away from them. She was learning to accept it, but as she trudged across the arctic toward another new and unexpected situation, she was starting to wonder what was wrong with her, and why nothing ever seemed to work out for her.
Part of her almost wanted to cry, and with that Pan howled—a long, low, defeated howl.
She was headed to a far-away school now. Somewhere the Magisterium would never find her, the Master had assured her. A mining town. Simple and lowkey in the way they needed to keep Lyra safe and secure. Farder Coram had arranged a private tutor for her, who was somewhat versed in the readings of the alethiometer and who was an old friend of his. It would all work out, they'd promised Lyra. They would keep her safe; they would look out for her as they had all throughout her childhood. And Lyra supposed she'd do well to trust that, hope for that. For what else did she have, after all?
When they arrived at the town, the Gyptians bade her farewell and traveled back home to Oxford, leaving Lyra under the protection of her new tutor and caretaker.
"It's so lovely to meet you, dear," the old woman said, introducing herself as Madame Bisset. "I've heard so much about you." She had an accent, Lyra detected—that of New France. A few Scholars from there had ventured to Jordan, making their accented English identifiable to her. Lyra nodded politely and allowed the woman to take her arm and slowly stroll to the town's main gate, as the Gyptians had dropped her off right at the edge of it.
It was warm here, which was a bit surprising. They were still North, but this was a new kind of North. Lyra took a deep breath and absorbed the salty scent of the nearby ocean. Inspired by the smell, Pan transformed into a seagull and circled above their heads, squawking and taking in the fresh air.
"This town is small, but it has a storied history," Madame Bisset was saying as they passed by the welcome sign, labeled Lavia.
"I like stories," Lyra offered, and her new caretaker smiled with genuine delight before launching into detail about how the town was first formed, and how it remained an important site of minerals and geological research.
Lyra could live here, she decided. It wasn't Jordan, or even London, or the small Northern towns she'd visited way back when. But it was alright. Madame Bisset seemed nice.
There was a school in the town, too, Madame Bisset explained, although it was meant primarily for younger children who needed the basics of education. She took Lyra over for a quick tour, and to meet the wonderful new teacher who had arrived in town a few weeks before Lyra.
As they entered the one-room schoolhouse and heard the animate babble of children, Lyra saw her. She stopped dead in her tracks, Pan falling onto all four of his ermine paws as he spotted her, too.
She was beautiful and young, with her dark hair tucked up into a loose braid. She wore shimmering gold earrings whose sheen matched the golden fur of her monkey daemon, whose beady black eyes turned to them and opened wider than they ever have before.