I stole the fact that Lyra has met Kaysa from the books. I'm not giving it back. I like the symmetry of the daemons belonging there, together between their two humans in a sentence.

This story belongs to its author and creators, the respect and love necessary to write a tribute belongs to me.

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Mr Scoresby couldn't really land, and so he was forced to drop his friend and the children off and head back, though he did not like it. The witch had seemed to have a plan, and there was nothing to say against young Lyra's plans usually, but it still did not sit well with him. Well, Iorik was with them, and surely he was the best one to have with you in a pinch, as he'd told that resourceful little girl when they had first met.

Lyra was not afraid, as Iorik, Roger and her made it the short way from where Mr Scoresby had dropped them over to where her father's laboratory was located. Her father would know how to set everything right, she was sure of it. He'd help. She needed to bring him the Alethiometer, and he'd know what to do. She was meant to, she just knew. It was her father who had given it to the master of Jordan for safekeeping in the first place.

It was not far, but the snow and winds were too much for Roger and her to tackle by themselves. The short walk would have taken them hours without Iorek, now wearing his armour again, and faithfully shielding them from the worst of it.

Tired, even though they'd only been awake for half an hour, they reached her father's laboratory.

They were let in by a man with an already troubled expression, who startled badly at the sight of Iorek, who could only barely squeeze by, though the hallway was not that narrow, one side made by natural stone.

Leaving the Ice Bear in the first spot out of the snow where he could comfortably fit, the two children let the silent, nervous man with his videly open, startled eyes point them down a narrow staircase towards two low voices.

Lyra peeked into the warm room, seeing bookcases, scientific equipment she was sure scholars' at Jordan had taught her the names of, but which she couldn't name, and on a thick heartrug, sat Serafina Pekkala, two familiar daemons, and her father.

Before anyone could really react, Lyra threw herself into a hug with her father, who only just managed to shift to accomodate her. Her uncle had not been awfully fond of such displays, (usually she wasn't, either) but she was going to hug her father, when she knew she had an alive father for the first time.

Half of Lyra expected a reprimand, while the other half plain didn't care, but all Lord Asriel did was cup a hand around her hair and kiss her temple, with a soft, "my girl." She could have sworn that Serafina Pekkala, who greeted her smile over her father's shoulder with an answering, wide one, mumbled, "You see? It is not so hard."

Finally letting go, Lyra noticed her father startle at the sight of Roger, glancing at Serafina Pekkala, but his mouth only narrowed momentarily in response before he looked back to Lyra. Within the hour, Pan was sleeping between Stelmaria's protective paws, while Lyra had curled up in her father's lap. Serafina had pulled a blanket across the sleeping boy and his daemon, and the two adults spoke on. Serafina would never admit just how much Asriel reminded her of a lion with his cub, as he spread out before the fire, cradling his daughter protectively all the while. Maybe, being a decent human human being would come easily to the man, after all. Either way, Serafina had not lived this long without knowing how to nurture hope.