Notes : Surprised ? A few words before continuing:

- I'm currently seriously rereading each of the chapters of this fanfiction. I'm revising most of them. No major additions, just some enrichment and improvement. Only in Chapter 8 does Billy Costa make an appearance ;)

- I have some serious ideas for a sequel. I'm planning to try NaNoWriMo for a personnal project this year, I will take the opportunity to write the first chapters. Perhaps a publication in December? Tbh, the sequel might only published on AO3 as I have like 0 feedback or comment here. If you are interested : same pseudo, same title. Stay tuned.

- SO, after thinking it through, this little bonus chapter popped in my mind! Enjoy it, it's cute and full of good feelings. Even more since the second part of my fanfiction won't be as tender as the first part … (because, you know, adulthood, parenthood... and the Magisterium causing trouble). Anyway, happy reading :)

Six o'clock, Mary opened her eyes. She didn't need an alarm she had never needed one. Every morning played out the same routine. At six o'clock, she opened her eyes. In the almost total darkness of the room, only the backlight of the retro alarm clock traced the outlines of the furniture and walls. Under the reddish light of the digital numbers, Mary gazed at Olivia's sleeping face in front of her. Her long black hair fell in front of her face. Mary gently pushed it aside, and Olivia wrinkled her nose. Mary smiled and got up without a sound. She wrapped herself in a thick wool sweater, put on a pair of socks, and left the room quietly.

The hallway floor and the wooden stairs creaked under her feet as she moved cautiously. Upon reaching the kitchen, she turned on the lights and activated the opening of the roller shutters. The same darkness prevailed inside and outside. In the distance, she could make out the dark silhouettes of the icy islands. The winter solstice had passed, and the sun would peek out for a timid hour. However, the sky had become overcast with clouds, casting doubt on the possibility of a break in the clouds.

She made herself a coffee. While waiting for the brew to pour, her gaze lingered on the items magnetized to the fridge. A drawing by Nora, a birth announcement, photos. One, in particular, always held her attention. She had taken it two years ago. In the photo, Olivia could be seen standing in their garden, immersed in the wintry twilight, her feet in the snow, seemingly caught in a fit of laughter. Beside her, Will and Lyra were also laughing. Will had his hands in his pockets and his head slightly tilted back, while Lyra had one hand on his arm and the other in front of her mouth. What was the source of this general hilarity? Mary couldn't recall. But one thing was certain: that particular photo always put her in a good mood.

A voice came from behind her, "You're all excited. Why are you holding back like that?" Mary jumped and put her hand on her chest. "You scared me!" she scolded.

On the countertop next to her, a mischievous-eyed yellow-billed chough was watching her.

"That's a good sign; it means you don't even need to make an effort to see me anymore! I'm delighted about that!" he replied in a sing-song voice. He hopped closer to her. "So, why are you holding back like this?"

Mary inhaled the roasted swirls of her beverage and took a sip with a small contented smile. She leaned her hip against the countertop. "Because if I get all worked up now, I'll burn myself out, and I'll be useless for the days to come, you know that well."

Her dæmon was right; she was excited, thrilled, and impatient. Today was the 24th of December, but it was a special 24th of December, and she couldn't wait for it to truly begin.

For a few years now, Will and Lyra had been coming to spend three days with them. Together, they enjoyed joyful and carefree days. This time of year was one of Mary's favorites. She had never been much into the holiday season until Nora was born. And the past few Christmases had a special flavor with the presence of Will and Lyra.

This Christmas was special because, last year, Will had arrived alone.

He had rung the doorbell a little later than usual. Mary had opened it, and she hadn't immediately noticed that he was accompanied only by Kirjava. She had first seen that he had cut his hair, which delighted her, and she couldn't help but make a remark. Then, she had glanced behind his shoulder to greet Lyra but realized that they were the only two humans in the room.

"Will..." she had said. Will had taken off his coat and started to remove his shoes. He looked up upon hearing Mary's worried tone.

A few seconds had passed between the moment he had walked through the door and when she called out to him with alarm. She had had time to imagine a hundred scenarios in her head. Why was he alone? Had something happened to Lyra? Did they break up? Was she ill? Did she have an accident? Was she dead?!

Will, halfway out of his shoes, had rushed to grasp her hands that she was wringing with anxiety. "Why isn't Lyra here?" Mary had asked.

"Oh no, Mary! Relax!" he exclaimed with a reassuring smile. There was a new sparkle in his eyes that left her a bit bewildered. "Everything's fine, I assure you!" he added. "Lyra is perfectly fine! She didn't want to cross because she's pregnant, andwe're not sure what effect it might have on the baby."

Pregnant. The word ricocheted in Mary's mind, and she widened her eyes. "What?!" she exclaimed.

Will let out a clear laugh, and Mary's eyes instantly welled up with tears. "Is it true?!" she asked, squeezing his arms.

"Of course! Do you really think I'd lie to you about this?"

Mary had embraced him tightly, stifling an emotional sob. At that moment, Nora entered the room and rushed toward them. "Will!" she cried, reaching out her arms. Will managed to free himself from Mary's suffocating embrace to take the little girl in his arms. She ran her hands through his brown curls.

"I love your hair!" Nora declared. "Where's Lyra? Is she sick?"

"No," Will replied. "Lyra is perfectly fine. And you've grown again! You need to stop! I can't keep up anymore!"

"I'm not going to stay little forever," Nora retorted with the seriousness of children her age.

Will put her down, removed his second shoe, and entered the living room to greet Olivia. "Nice haircut!" she said. She then paused as she noticed Mary, who was drying her tears behind Will, and the absence of Lyra. "What's going on? Where's Lyra?"

Will sighed with a smile. The three of them were so similar.

"Lyra is fine," he repeated. "She chose to stay behind because she's pregnant."

Olivia had a surprised gasp, and then a radiant smile appeared on her face, while tears welled up in Mary's eyes once again.

"Why isn't Lyra here? Why are you laughing? Why is Mama crying?" Nora protested, stomping her foot. "I want to know!"

Will crouched down to her level and replied in a gentle voice, "Lyra is expecting a baby. She chose to stay because we were afraid the journey would tire her too much."

"She's expecting a baby?" Nora asked. "Where is it?"

"It's in her tummy. It's a baby we're going to have together."

Nora took a moment, her forehead wrinkled in intense thought, before asking, "But who's the mommy?"

"It's her," Will answered. "Because the baby is growing in her tummy."

"Ah! And you're the daddy because you're her lover?"

"Exactly."

"How did you get the baby in her tummy? Why didn't you just give it to her like that?"

Will looked up at Olivia and Mary and added mischievously, "You'll have to ask your moms about that."

He straightened up. The two women had been waiting for this moment to bombard him with simultaneous questions: "How is she?" "Why can't she cross?" "When is her due date?" "Don't tell me you're still on that boat?!"

Will raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Can I just come in properly and have a glass of water?" he asked.

Both women let him pass. Mary offered him a glass of water and a coffee. Will leaned against the table and downed the water first. Then he took the steaming coffee cup before smiling at the two pairs of eager eyes fixed on him.

"Lyra is perfectly fine, everything is going well," he reiterated. "She's stressed, so she can't help but consult the alethiometer at least once a day. She's in Bodø - our Bodø I mean. We're not sure what crossing might do to the baby, so we decided to be cautious."

"You left her all alone!" Mary exclaimed.

"Would you have preferred that I didn't come and you had no updates?" Will retorted, rolling his eyes.

"Well ..."

"She's not alone, don't worry. She's with our sailor friends."

"Because you're still involved with the boat?! That's reckless!"

"No! Don't worry!" Will restrained a sigh. Mary's concern was justified and touched him. "We've moved to Oxford now. But Bodø is still the home port of the ship we spent three years on. And you'll understand that I won't stay for all three days and leave at the end of the day, don't you? But look, I did bring some gifts!"

He set down his cup and straightened up, running his fingers through his hair. Olivia grabbed his hand, practically bouncing with excitement. She showed his finger with a shiny ring on it. "And what's this?!"

Mary's eyes widened in astonishment, and she took his hand to examine the ring more closely.

"What the hell have you done?!" she protested.

"Hey, calm down!" Will protested, trying to free his hand. "We didn't have a choice, okay?"

"Did someone force you to get married?!" Mary scoffed.

"Well, it's almost like that," Will replied, offended by her remark. "This Oxford is very different. It's so conservative, you wouldn't believe it… We arrived there, and Lyra had been missing for years. No one knew me, she's pregnant, and we weren't married. Nothing was going right! Her friend Alice pressured us, saying that if we didn't do it, we could be charged with heresy or some bullshit like that."

He sighed, crossed his arms over his chest, and sat back down at the table. Mary and Olivia burst into laughter.

"This is the best!" Mary said. "You! After constantly going on about how you were against marriage when we decided to marry Olivia, how it was useless, how it was an injunction of our patriarchal society, and blah blah blah. You! Married!" She slapped her thigh with the palm of her hand before laughing again. Nora joined in the laughter of her mothers without fully understanding. Will drank his coffee while muttering.

"Oh, stop it!" Olivia teased. She gently nudged him with her fist. "Don't tell us you're not happy to be married to Lyra!"

"I never said that!" Will defended himself. "It's just that..."

"Ha!" Mary interrupted. She grabbed his arm with such force that he almost spilled the contents of his cup. He wanted to grumble a remark about her clumsiness, but Mary continued, her eyes wild, "No! Don't tell me... is her name now Parry?!"

"Obviously," Will replied with feigned nonchalance.

Once again, Mary burst into laughter. "I can't believe my ears! Where have all your grand feminist ally speeches gone?"

"But it's not like that! We didn't have a choice! Geez, it's getting annoying!" Will sighed.

Mary and Olivia continued to chuckle, exchanging glances.

"Come on, admit it," Mary teased him again. "You can tell us, Will. You're happy, and you're proud that she carries your name. Admit it!"

Will rolled his eyes wearily without responding, but Mary knew him well, and she had clearly seen that he had blushed.

The rest of the day passed in a joyful atmosphere. Will got back at the friendly teasing from the two women by revealing the news bit by bit. He knew they were so eager to know more. Yes, yes, Lyra was doing well, as well as a pregnant woman can be. The due date was set for late February, apparently. Yes, modern medicine was advanced enough to ensure a smooth childbirth. Yes, they knew the gender, because Lyra couldn't resist asking the alethiometer. No, he wouldn't tell them. Okay, fine, since you insist, it's a girl. Yes, they already had a name. No, it would remain a secret until the end. And yes, Lyra had some peculiar cravings, like eating grapes with mustard or pickles with jam. Yes, he tried it, and he found it disgusting.

He left in the late afternoon with a bag filled to the brim with clothes and toys. Mary and Olivia had insisted that he take Nora's baby clothes that they had carefully preserved. The little girl herself wanted to give him a narwhal-shaped stuffed animal that she adored.

And now, Mary was waiting. Christmas always came with a touch of worry. She had no way to get news from Lyra and Will. There was no guarantee that they would be there and that nothing had happened to them. It was part of the deal, she knew it, but her heart was always heavy with anticipation. She had been very concerned when she knew they were sailing. Now, she worried about whether everything was going well, if they were safe, and if their child was alright. Child. Just by thinking that word in her head, her heartbeat quickened, increasing her impatience.

She looked at the sky, her forehead furrowed. They were expecting a snowstorm for the day, and she hoped they wouldn't arrive too late. An added concern.

She was pulled from her worries by heavy footsteps clattering down the stairs. Mary looked at her phone, which showed it was seven in the morning, and saw Nora arrive, her hair in disarray but clearly wide awake. She placed her fist on her hip.

"Well good morning, Miss Discreet," she said in a stern tone. "Don't you want to make even more noise to wake up the whole household?"

The little girl approached her mother with a charming smile to apologize. Mary kissed her head, and Nora settled at the small kitchen table. She was now a five-year-old who was beginning to assert herself and ask many questions.

"Morning, Chocho," she chirped, addressing Mary's dæmon.

"Morning, Nora," the yellow-billed chough replied.

When Nora turned three, Mary and Olivia noticed that she could effortlessly see her mothers' dæmons, as well as her own. According to Lyra, she had this ability naturally, much like Lyra herself had the gift of reading the alethiometer as a child. Lyra had warned them. According to her, Nora might lose this ability when she entered adolescence and would need to learn to see her own dæmon and those of her mothers. So, at the tender age of three, Nora had named Mary's dæmon "Chocho," Olivia's "Charlie," and her own "Moomin." It seemed to suit the dæmons more than the adults, but that's how it was.

"You're up early," Mary remarked. She poured milk into a bowl and placed it in the microwave, taking out a container of cocoa powder. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"Oh no, Mama, I'm just super excited!" Nora replied, joyfully swinging her legs above the floor. "Are they coming with the baby?"

"I think so. They won't leave her all alone."

The morning stretched slowly, too slowly for Mary. She had to occupy the hours, not constantly watch the clock or their watches to avoid impatience. When Olivia finally decided to get up, she found the kitchen in disarray. Mary and Nora were attempting to bake biscuits. Olivia kissed her wife, her daughter, opened the oven to inspect the progress and savor the scents of butter and cinnamon wafting from it. She then lifted the lid of a pot where a fragrant bœuf Bourguignon had been simmering since the previous day. She displayed a satisfied smile and left the battlefield that covered the room from floor to ceiling, leaving the bakers covered in flour to wrestle with the star-shaped cookie cutters. The wind stirred waves of snowflakes that crashed against the windows of the living room.

Finally, the doorbell in the entrance rang, causing Mary to startle. She dropped the dish she was carrying, and let out a curse, apologized, and instructing her daughter to be cautious while she stepped away. She hurried to open the front door. A gust of snow burst in, accompanied by two figures bundled up in furs.

"Bloody hell!" Lyra exclaimed as she entered. "What kind of weather is this?!"

Will followed, removing his hood, while their two dæmons shook their fur covered in a thin layer of white. A stream of snowflakes poured onto the entrance mat. Lyra put down the bags she was holding to welcome Mary's embrace. Mary hugged her tightly, saying, "Oh my God! I missed you so much!"

She stepped back for a moment to observe her. The young woman hadn't changed one bit, except for a new spark in her eyes. The snowstorm had done nothing to improve the perpetual mess of her hair, and her cheeks were rosy from the biting cold. A wide smile stretched between her ears, and she kissed Mary once more.

"Lyra," called Will. "A little help, please."

He had removed his coat and was struggling with a sheet tied around his chest, from which emerged a pair of arms, a pair of legs, and a small head covered by a dark blue beanie. Lyra stood behind him to untie the scarf. He slipped his hands under the fabric to grab the wriggling bundle that protested with high-pitched cries.

"Do you have her?" she asked.

"Yep, all good," he replied.

He held the baby while the fabric slipped away, and Mary watched the scene with sparkling anticipation. "Hello there," Will said softly as he gently moved the child to look at her.

He held her with both hands while Lyra removed her coat, smiling at the little one. Tiny coat. Tiny beanie. Tiny boots. Tiny hands at the end of tiny arms. Everything was tiny, and Mary's heart melted with love.
Will removed the little hat from the child, revealing a mane of ebony hair, the density accentuated by static electricity caused by the wool. The child sneezed. "Bless you," Lyra laughed. Then Will placed her against his side so she could see Mary and approached the researcher. "Let me introduce you to Elenore," he said, never taking his eyes off the child. "Elenore, this is Mary, remember? We've told you about her."

Held upright in her father's arms, the child fixed her gaze on this new person. She furrowed her dark eyebrows and observed Mary with curiosity and apprehension. A round face that bore the same seriousness and skin tone as her father, and huge blue eyes, just like her mother's. Mary's heart swelled with affection. She reached out her hand and lightly caressed the child's chubby cheek with her index finger.

"Hello," she said in a gentle voice. Lyra stood beside them, her radiant smile still in place.

"Isn't she just lovely?" she asked.

"Oh, absolutely," Mary replied, never taking her eyes off Elenore.

"I'm rather proud of us on this one," Lyra declared with no false modesty.

She planted a kiss on Will's cheek and then entered the living room to greet Olivia and Nora. Will let out a small chuckle. He ran his fingers through his daughter's dark, curly hair. She blinked her eyes several times, shifting her gaze away from Mary to focus on her father.

"Sorry," Will said. "She's normally quite generous with smiles, but she needs a bit of time to take in her surroundings and build trust. After that, she's good, and you'll see, she'll be reaching out to you all the time!"

"She reminds me of someone," Mary responded with a knowing smile.

At that moment, a field mouse peeked out and climbed onto the child's shoulder. "Ah, and this is Beren, her dæmon," Will added, stroking the rodent's head. Elenore managed a small smile. Mary's eyes widened in surprise. "Of course! Oh, I have SO MANY questions, Will!" she exclaimed.

"I have no doubt," he replied.

She affectionately squeezed his arm. She felt so proud, happy, moved, and exhilarated; wondering how so many emotions could manifest at once.

"You have every reason to be proud," she said. "I am truly very happy for you."

Nora burst into the entrance and rushed to Will's legs. "Can I see her, please?!"

Will crouched down to her level. Elenore clung to her father's sweater, and Nora leaned in timidly to observe the baby's cherubic face.

"Her name is Elenore," Will said. "I'm sure you two will get along just fine."

"Can I play with her?" Nora asked.

"She's a little small, but you can show her some toys if you'd like. Just don't touch her dæmon, okay? Even though he's cute."

Nora nodded and ran upstairs. Elenore began to squirm and fuss, so Will put her down on the floor. Instantly, she got onto her hands and knees and quickly entered the living room. Her tiny dæmon transformed into a butterfly, fluttering clumsily to rest on the top of her head.

"Watch out, munchkin on the loose!" Will announced. "She goes everywhere!"

He heard Olivia's exclamations and Lyra's laughter, then turned to Mary, who hadn't stopped smiling. She embraced him, without a word this time.

They entered the living room, already filled with joyful chaos. The traditional Christmas tree sparkled with a thousand lights. Olivia had placed strings of twinkling lights throughout the room, candles, and warm decorations on the furniture. A comforting scent of spices wafted from a plate filled with biscuits sitting on the table.

Nora had come downstairs, her arms full of toys, which she spread out on the floor in front of Elenore. The little girl sat and observed this grand display with curiosity. Behind her, Lyra and Olivia were engaged in cheerful conversation. They entered the kitchen together, from which a delicious aroma wafted. However, Elenore saw her mother disappear into the other room. She turned and began to whine, leaving Nora bewildered. Lyra reappeared, bending down to the little girl with a smile.

"Hey! What's wrong, poppet?" she said gently. Elenore smiled and let out a musical, joyful laugh.

"I prefer that!" Lyra added.

She scooped the little girl into her arms, lifting her above her head. Elenore wriggled and laughed with delight. Lyra planted kisses on the folds of her neck, causing Elenore's laughter to intensify. Then, Lyra knelt down and pointed at Nora, who was fidgeting nervously with a doll.

"See, this is Nora," Lyra explained to her daughter. "She's your friend. Look at all the things she brought!"

She accompanied her words with exaggerated gestures, picking up a plastic reindeer and exclaiming with enthusiasm.

The day continued at an exhilarating, joyous, and chaotic pace, filled with meals, wine, exclamations and laughters every time Elenore made a gesture or babbled, Nora's nonsensical stories, games, gift exchanges, books, and updates. In the early evening, Mary sank into the armchair, sipping the last of her wine. Nora lay beneath the table, showing Elenore a picture book, and the baby followed with intense concentration. Olivia served cups of herbal tea. Lyra and Will sat facing Mary on the couch. Will rested his arm on the backrest and let his fingers trace along Lyra's neck as they chatted. They looked exhausted but also very happy. Mary fondly remembered the early years of Nora's life when worry often disrupted her sleep and made her get up in the middle of the night to listen to Nora's breathing, when perplexity mingled with her incessant cries, and when sheer delight filled her heart at each burst of childlike laughter.

Mary savored every moment of that day and the ones to come. She sighed with contentment. She felt complete, satisfied, and profoundly, undeniably happy.

Six o'clock, Mary opened her eyes. She didn't need an alarm she had never needed one. Six o'clock. She got up, her eyes still heavy from the previous day. Joy had led her to drink a bit more than usual. Her blood pulsed ferociously in her temples. She put her hand on her forehead with a grimace, then grabbed a water bottle lying next to the bed and took a long, refreshing sip. She got up, went out quietly, and walked through the hallway of the still-sleeping house. Near the entrance of the staircase, she saw a faint colorful beam of light coming from the living room. The Christmas tree lights blinked in silence. Someone was already awake. She heard a low murmur coming from the living room. She went down the first few steps before stopping.

Will was sitting on the couch, holding Elenore in his arms. He gazed at her with tenderness, whispering words to her as the little one greedily consumed the contents of a milk bottle. Her tiny fingers clung tightly to her father's hand. She never took her eyes off him. She paused briefly to offer him a milk-moistened smile before returning to her concentrated feeding. Will yawned. Mary descended the last steps, and the wood creaked beneath her. Will raised his tired eyes to meet Mary's. He smiled.

"Merry Christmas, Mary," he said.

"Merry Christmas, Will," Mary replied, her eyes gleaming.