Chapter Text
Chapter 3 - Lyra's Point of View
Lyra comes awake crying, unsure if she’s still dreaming. She’s startled by an eerily familiar screeching sound, but she can’t seem to place it. The all consuming darkness around her is soon vanquished by a flooding light stinging at her eyes. Lyra wonders if now is when she really wakes up. *Where am I? Where did Roger go?*
She tries to look around for him, but can’t seem to find him anywhere. There’s a familiar, small white form directly in her line of sight. *Pan!*
At once, some of the fear dissipates. She tries to reach for him, but her arm is too heavy to move. *Why’s he lookin’ at me like that? Like he can’t even see me? Pan!*
She can feel a hand in her hair. It feels soothing. *Roger?*
Someone’s speaking to her, or so she thinks. But the voice isn’t Roger’s, and it seems so far away. The sound is muted. Like she’s listening from under water. *Where’s it comin’ from?*
It’s hard to focus on the voice, but it’s even harder to move her head, her whole body even. She tries hard to look up. There’s a figure there, looking down at her. *Roger? No. Too much hair. Where did he go?*
She tries to call out his name, but her mouth and tongue feels weird. Disconnected. Wrong. *Somethin’s very wrong. *
The figure is touching her face now. She should be frightened, but it feels so comforting.
“Rojer.. Ro… Rogr…”
She can’t get the name out right and suddenly she’s flying! It’s a short flight, and she lands securely on something firm, yet so soft. Someone is holding her. Someone much bigger than her and they are swaying. It makes her a bit nauseous even though it feels really nice and comfortable. She gasps and jolts all of a sudden as she feels something reach her from within. It’s a foreign feeling. Almost foreign, but... nice… and yet not entirely so. It sharpens her somewhat and she looks up. *Who’s that? Mrs. Coulter?*
“...Mother…”
The word feels strange in her mouth. Wrong. But also right. So very confusing.
“Yes.”
*Mrs. Coulter’s here! Did she find Roger like she promised?*
“Did you see him too?”
“Did I see whom, my love?”
*What does she mean by that? She had to have seen him!*
“Roger. I’ve found him.”
“That is wonderful my darling.”
*Yes! But where IS he?*
“Where are we?”
“We are on a journey. A journey to the north.”
She feels an absolute warmth spreading through her then, like a warm blanket of snow.
“The north… Are we going to see armored bears?”
The mere thought fills her with a comfort she can’t even begin to describe. It makes her whole heart ache with longing for... Mrs. Coulter’s whole face smiles down at her then.
“Yes.”
*Her smile is so beautiful.* A playful thought occurs to her.
“Are we going to negotiate with Tartars?”
“Oh, I hope not.”
*The way she answers is just too funny!*
“You would win though, wouldn't you?”
“Of course I would.”
*Of course she would!* She hears herself laughing at that. *Mother would win any confrontation!*
A familiar flash of gold jumps towards her. She blinks and it’s gone. Mrs. Coulter is holding her tighter, kissing her forehead. *Why? Am I hurt?*
A tear. It seems so wrong upon Mrs. Coulter’s face. It seems to be tearing it in two, like it’s exposing something else underneath. She reaches out to touch it. Mrs. Coulter’s eyes are fully focused on her own and she finds herself unable to look away from them. Not until she hears that hauntingly familiar screech again. *Where’s Pan?! I can feel him so close!*
“Drink this Lyra.”
Mrs. Coulter brings a flask to her lips. She drinks from it, fighting the urge to spit the vile contents out. Mrs. Coulter wouldn’t like that.
“It tastes awful.”
“It is good for you, my sweet.”
She almost snorts at that. *It tastes awful, so of course it is!*
“How come it's never the other way around?”
*I didn’t mean to say that out loud.*
“What is?”
“How come what's good for you always tastes so bad?”
Mrs. Coulter laughs at her question, but she doesn’t answer. Her laughter doesn’t seem right. *She sounds… sad.*
A heaviness settles in her body. She feels herself falling. No, disappearing. She’s worried she’ll stop breathing all together. *What is happenin’?!*
“I'm drowning!”
“No, my darling. You are just falling asleep.”
*Asleep? But I just woke up! Why am I so tired? Why does this feel SO wrong?*
“Oh... Will you stay with me?”
“Forever.”
A feeling of safety engulfs her then and she wants to snuggle up in it for the very rest of her life and she feels herself drifting off, everything disappearing.
*Mrs. Coulter’s staying with me. She will keep me safe! Safe from…?*
“...Mother…”