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

A/N: And here we go—the Lyra/Mrs. Coulter reunion that I know I at least have been craving!It was so great to write this, and I'll have more soon.

Two things: 1) Mrs. Clemsen is Mrs. Coulter's alias (I updated ch. 45 to reflect that), and 2) I changed Madame Bisset not to be part of some grand rebellion but to be a sweet older lady who just happened to know Farder Coram and who was willing to take in a child.

Luxurious Lies

47.

Trust

At first, Mrs. Coulter didn't believe it when she saw Lyra walk into the one-room schoolhouse.

It was a typical day in Lavia. The sun was shining and the birds were out singing as Mrs. Coulter and the children played outside during their mid-morning recess. No one had even gotten hurt this time, which was a rare occurrence. When they'd headed back in, she'd tried her best to tackle addition and subtraction with them. Some children were older and understood the concept quickly whereas some of the younger ones barely knew their numbers at all. It was a true challenge, for her to teach them like this, to pretend to even be a teacher when she'd truthfully had no more educational qualifications than any other researcher in the North.

It'll be fine, Father MacPhail had assured her, sneering. These fools wouldn't know an educated teacher if she fell from the sky. Just go there and keep the children happy until we can resume our experiments. You're a woman, so I imagine you'll fare well.

She sighed as she moved the class into small group work now, where they worked with two other students at their tables to solve the problems on their worksheets. They'd likely work for five minutes before breaking off to talk about whatever happened to occupy their attention, but that was fine. Mrs. Coulter didn't need to be an effective teacher, after all. She just needed to get the job done, and then dread what else the General Oblation Board and its new showrunner Father MacPhail had in store for them all.

It was right when she was about to reconvene the whole group when Madame Bisset walked in with a tall, lanky girl in tow.

Everything stopped just then for Mrs. Coulter, except for the girl walking into the classroom. It was as if a spotlight were set upon her and following her every movement. As they entered the room, her ermine daemon joined them, shifting to his hind legs to get a better view. Her hair was long and dark blonde, and her eyes were a fair shade of blue. Her face was thin and angular, with a strong jaw and small nose.

It can't be, she thought to her daemon, who'd stopped his prowling to stare in earnest at the girl and daemon in front them.

It shouldn't be, she then thought, with horror, as she realized what it was she was doing at this facility and what the powers that be would do if they realized who had just walked through the door.

"Mrs. Clemsen," Madame Bisset called out to her as she hobbled closer. Lyra, Mrs. Coulter noticed, stayed rooted to the spot—eyes wide and unmoving. "How are you today, dear? And how are the children?"

"Fine, thank you," Mrs. Coulter managed to let out, forcing herself to move closer to the woman and, in so doing, closer to Lyra.

"I wanted to introduce you to—where is she?" Madame Bisset gestured to her left only to realize that the child wasn't there. "Oh, there you are! Lyra, come here and meet Mrs. Clemesen, our new schoolteacher."

Mrs. Coulter waited to see what Lyra was going to do. She'd been in this situation multiple times before: confronted with someone she wasn't expecting to see. It'd happened back in Jordan, when the Master first introduced them. It happened in the North, when Lyra had first encounter Serafina Pekkala and the aeronaut Lee Scoresby on her travels with the Gyptians. It then happened when she was at Bolvangar and Mrs. Coulter happened to be checking in while she was there.

And it was happening now, when Lyra was here for who knows what reason and wasn't expecting to run into Mrs. Coulter. The Magisterium's vetting had apparently worked well. They'd introduced her as an Authority-loving schoolteacher Maria Clemsen from London on a mission to help educate under-privileged children in the North. She had references and an entire fake lineage of family and associates, and had even adopted a new personality.

It was ridiculous, and it was utterly boring to execute, but it had worked. Until now. Lyra very much had the power to turn her in and ruin everything, Mrs. Coulter realized in that moment.

Do I even care? she wondered, still waiting for Lyra to act. Part of her didn't. She would love nothing more for these operations to fold here, and to be cut loose from the Magisterium altogether. She'd venture North and live in the wilderness if she had to. She knew how to survive. All her training prepared her for exactly that, after all.

But what would they do to Lyra? That was the main concern during all of this, as they had still been on the hunt for her and were desperate to put an end to whatever it was they thought she would do.

It was with that concern that Mrs. Coulter took in a deep breath and stepped forward, her lips in a tight smile as she slowly extended her hand. "It's so nice to meet you, Lyra. My name is Mrs. Clemsen."

A look passed between them that only they could interpret. It was an unspoken agreement to not reveal their relation to one another, and to simply play along. It was all Mrs. Coulter could hope for, really, until she had a chance to talk further with Lyra.

"Nice to meet you," Lyra repeated, her tone flat as she raised her hand to shake Mrs. Coulter's. Mrs. Coulter noticed how she hesitated at first, and how she swiftly took her hand away.

"Lyra is visiting us from Brytain," Madame Bisset explained. "From Jordan College."

Are you kidding me? Mrs. Coulter stiffened, gaping as the old woman proceeded to explain how Lyra had traveled with a group of Gyptians all the way from Oxford. This was the person the Gyptians and the Master trusted to ensure that Lyra would be safe? Someone who would so readily babble off key information that Lyra's pursuers could use to severely harm her?

Don't, the monkey warned her, wrapping his tail around her leg. She was almost shaking, and her neck was growing red. The woman is old and ignorant. We can deal with it later. Do something to get Lyra alone.

"You know, Madame Bisset," Mrs. Coulter said sweetly a beat later, forcing herself to drag her eyes away from Lyra. "The children have been so good today and would love to show their work to our visitor. Would you like to go check in at their tables, and I can show Lyra around the school?"

It was an easy enough distraction, as the old woman was delighted to go talk to the filthy, unfocused brats, and all too keen to leave her charge alone with a practical stranger. She still found it unbelievable. Once Madame Bisset was safely out of earshot, Mrs. Coulter turned back to Lyra, who still hadn't moved an inch.

After all that build-up, Mrs. Coulter didn't know what to say. "Good to see you," or perhaps "how've you been"? It was awkward. It was all terribly awkward. Lyra had run away from her—again. They'd been through this before, and now they were back to face one another, after months had passed and so much had changed.

"How are you?" Mrs. Coulter finally whispered. Lyra simply stared back, eyes flickering from Mrs. Coulter to the children behind her and to the golden monkey. And then back again.

"Oh, Lyra." Mrs. Coulter couldn't help it. She stepped closer, taking a good look at her. She'd grown a couple inches since she'd last seen her. She'd be taller than Mrs. Coulter herself before long. Her features looked sharper, too—more defined somehow. She was older, and looking at Pan, who was still behind Lyra's legs as an ermine…

"Has," she began, eyes trailing down to Pan, "have you—has your daemon—"

"No," Lyra answered quietly, shifting to avoid Mrs. Coulter's gaze.

Mrs. Coulter let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding, yet hesitated. She didn't know which answer she had wanted to actually hear. No, he hasn't settled, and she's still a child, and Mrs. Coulter hadn't missed all that much; or yes, he had settled, and Lyra would be safe here from the experiments of the past that had come so close to threatening her before?

"We need to pretend that you're showing me around," Lyra said again, walking past her and over to the other side of the room. Mrs. Coulter followed, dazed. It was all happening too fast and she hadn't nearly enough time to determine how she wanted to respond to the child.

"I looked for you after you left," she offered, pointing to a cabinet as if explaining what was inside. "I searched all of Wordsworth and all the streets."

Lyra's eyes were steadily on the cabinet. "What are you doing here with these children?"

"It's not what you think." Mrs. Coulter moved over to the farthest corner of the room they could possibly go to, eyes now fully on Lyra and not hiding any of her emotion. "I didn't have a choice, Lyra. They sent me here and told me to wait for further instruction."

"I can't believe you," Lyra shot back, voice low but tone sharp. "After all we went through, all they've done, and you're working with them again? Hurting children again?"

"But we haven't!" Mrs. Coulter was feeling panicked now. She understood Lyra's suspicions, and her accusations, but nothing was truly as it seemed. They hadn't laid the groundwork for their experiments yet, and Mrs. Coulter was making her rounds with local scientists to see what work they'd done in experimental theology, and if there was anyone who could possibly help her oppose the Magisterium and everything they'd planned.

But she couldn't say that here, or explain it, or anything.

"I'll prove it to you," Mrs. Coulter finally told her, calming her breathing. "But now is not the time, and I need to find out what's going on. But you're safe? You're staying with Madame Bisset?"

That was what mattered at the moment: Lyra's safety and finding an appropriate time to discuss everything. Lyra nodded, still eying her carefully, and Mrs. Coulter nodded back. "Good. Very good. Just do as you're told, and I'll figure out what I can. And then I'll come see—can I see you?"

The feeling in her tone and eyes was apparent. And Lyra wasn't without any, either. Mrs. Coulter couldn't tell what exact emotions lurked beneath her, but they were there, and it gave her hope. The girl nodded once more, and with good timing as Madame Bisset was making her way back to them.

"I'll find you later," Mrs. Coulter promised her before turning around to smile at Madame Bisset. Lyra said and did nothing as the two adults exchanged pleasantries and farewells, and then Madame Bisset gestured to the door and Lyra followed her out.

But not without looking over her shoulder once, face uncertain, as she stared at her mother before going out of view.