Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mrs. Coulter and Lyra just stepped off the golden lift, which led into the hallway of Mrs. Coulter's flat. They had spent the entire day together, shopping, lunching at the artic institute, and ending it all with a play.
Mrs. Coulter cupped her hand softly on Lyra's cheek, smiling "now darling, you head-on into the tub and I will be there in a short while to wash your hair, I won't be a minute." Her voice fading away as she walked into the living room.

Lyra made her way down the hall until she found herself in the bathroom. The room, which had marble covering the walls and floor, was much larger than the disappointment of space she was given to occupy for the 12 years she lived at Jordan. Lyra stood next to the tub, which stood in the middle of the room and began to undress. The tub, which was filled to the brim with the warm bath water, Lyra presumed was done by one of the many servants, smelt of vanilla and lavender. And to any 12-year-olds delight lots and lots of bubbles.

Pan settled on the ceramic side of the tub in his ermine shape, "I don't think she plans to take us North." Lyra shot him an annoyed look as she tossed her navy dress and undergarments on the floor before getting into the tub, "sure she does." Before she could say much more, she was brought out of her frustration with a slight jump from the light knock coming from Mrs. Coulter, "may I come in?"

Mrs. Coulter, who had changed into a black silk nightgown, flashed a smile at Lyra as she walked behind her before pulling up the chair from underneath the window. "Did you have a fun day today?" she asked as she gently guided Lyra's head back before using a cup to pour warm water over her hair, wetting it.

"Yes," she responded, eyes wide, mimicking the smile across her face, "I never used to have this much fun at Jordan."
"Oh," Mrs. Coulter responded as she began to lather the shampoo through Lyra's dark hair.

"Well, I had fun." Lyra retorted, "just a different kind of fun."
Lyra turned her head slightly, making eye contact with Mrs. Coulter, "What do you mean?" she asked Lyra as she cocked her head to the side.

"Well, for instance, I have never had anyone buy me anything before," Lyra said in almost whisper. "All of the clothing I ever owned was given to me by Ms. Lonesdale, and I have never been bought new clothes."

Lyra, enjoying having her hair gently washed, began to sink in the tub a little. She had not noticed how tired she was. Since she has lived with Mrs. Coulter, three days now, they had been going non-stop, which Lyra was not opposed to. Still, she was just a twelve-year-old who only new tiredness after playing on the rooftops of Jordan with Roger and their friends.

Lyra turned once again after noticing Mrs. Coulter had stopped washing her hair, her hands still tangled in the sudsy locks. Mrs. Coulter, being brought from her thoughts, smile kindly at Lyra and resumed washing her hair.

Mrs. Coulter spoke as if nothing had happened "Well, there is plenty more where that came from, from now own everything you acquire will be brand new specifically for you."

Lyra dunked under the water to rinse out the shampoo allowing Mrs. Coulter to condition her hair.

Lyra smiled, "at Jordan, Mrs. Lonesdale was in charge of washing my hair, picking out my clothes, and brushing my hair, but she hurt and would always leave my head tender and a bit bruised. But when you wash my hair, I just want to fall asleep." Lyra said, laughing at her statement.

Mrs. Coulter's face flashed a sad smile, "well, I would never hurt you, Lyra, and I promise you I will never allow anyone or thing hurt you." Mrs. Coulter said flashing Lyra a smile, "now dunk your head, I am going to grab you a towel."

Lyra dunked her body in the water, causing Pan to run, trying to avoid the splash she caused. Mrs. Coulter held open the fluffy pink towel, shielding her face behind the towel as Lyra stepped in it. "Is this what it would have been like if my mom and dad if they hadn't died?" Lyra asked, staring at the floor.

Mrs. Coulter wrapped her arms around the girl, resting her chin on Lyra's wet hair. "Lyra, I may not be your mother, but while you are staying with me, I will take care of you."

Lyra's eyes, which were filled to the brim with tears, spilled over as she held onto to Mrs. Coulter, immersing herself into the warmth and comfort the woman gave her.

Mrs. Coulter aware the girl was now sobbing began to make soft shushing sounds from her lips, easing Lyra's crying. Mrs. Coulter walked Lyra to her bedroom, turning away from her as the girl slipped on her purple silk pajamas.

Lyra was consumed with exhaustion. Mrs. Coulter pulled back the sheets allowing the girl to slid under. Once Lyra laid settled, Pan curled up against her neck in his ermine shape.

Lyra's eyes were burning from exhaustion as well as her crying. Watching Mrs. Coulter, as she was tucking her in, she felt the heaviness drift over her. Mrs. Coulter gently brushed away a stray hair on Lyra's face before cuffing her little girl's cheek, affectionately, "goodnight Lyra."

Mrs. Coulter walked over to the door, still watching Lyra, Her daughter. With tears glistening in her eyes, she watched the sleeping girl before whispering in a shaky voice, "I love you, daughter, I will always love you." Before she closed the door gently.

Chapter Text

Stepping off of the golden lift into the hallway, Marisa looked at her daughter, leaning down and cupped her right hand against Lyra's cheek. Lyra drew into Marisa's touch, "now darling, you head-on into the tub, and I will be there in a short while to wash your hair" Lyra flashed Marisa a smile and began to walk down the hall. "I won't be a minute." She added as she made her way into the living room.

Marisa ignored the look of disgust Ozymandias was giving. "Don't look at me like that." Marisa spat at her daemon, who was sitting on the glass sofa table that lay behind the couch. She could feel the uneasiness set in her stomach as Ozymandias kept his eyes glued on her. Marisa feeling her jaw clench made haste from where she was standing. Once close enough, Marisa pulled back and unleashed a powerful backhand to Ozymandias, sending him to the floor as he hissed in response to the pain. Marisa, still clenching her jaw, immediately felt the aftermath of the hit. Sharp stinging pains which spread across her face. After pulling herself together, she straightened her dress and headed to her room to change into her pajamas.

Marisa chose her black silk jumpsuit as her pajamas of choice. She then slipped on her flats, she preferred to wear shoes in the flat, thanks to the cold the marble floors gave off. After she was dressed for the night, she left her room, glaring at Ozymandias, who cautiously kept his distance from the already pissed off Marisa.

 Making her way across the hall, Marisa could already smell the soft scent of vanilla and lavender, her personal favorite. The smell and knowing her daughter sat behind the door helped rid her of the anger she felt towards Ozymandias.  A faint smile formed on her lips as she stood at the door to the bathroom. She could hear Lyra and Pan talking to one another, though, she couldn't make out what was being said.

Marisa lightly knocked on the door before cracking it slightly, "may I come in?" After hearing Lyra give her permission to enter, Marisa walked in the bathroom, closing the door behind her, that way not to allow the cold air in. She smiled at the girl who looked so small and fragile, surrounded by the bubbles which looked as if they could engulf her. Walking to the window, Marisa grabbed a chair and pulled it up so she could easily wash Lyra's hair. While making herself comfortable, Marisa's eyes narrowed to the new navy dress crumpled on the floor next to the tub, rolling her eyes in annoyance to the sight. Marisa, though annoyed and disgusted to the fact that Lyra discarded her brand new dress on the floor, chose not to bring it up at the moment. Although this was very much not like Marisa to let something go. She was tired, and the conflict between Ozymandias had left her with a headache that she knew would only worsen with the disobedience Lyra would surely throw at her.

Wrapping her hand gently around Lyra's forehead, Marisa slowly guided her head back into the water just enough to dampen her hair.  "Did you have a fun day today?" she flashed a smile at Lyra, waiting for her to respond.

Lyra eagerly responded, "Yes," before she paused, leaving Marisa, wondering, "I never used to have this much fun at Jordan."

"Oh?" Marisa said she was unsure what Lyra meant.

Marisa, still curious, began to smooth the shampoo through Lyra's hair. She gently started scrubbing Lyra's scalp, making sure not to get any of the soap near the girl's eyes. While also making sure she washed in an effective way as to clean Lyra's hair, but gentle enough to make sure she would not hurt Lyra in the process.

Marisa's attention was brought to Lyra's eyes as Lyra turned her head to look at her, "Well, I had fun,  just a different kind of fun."

Marisa, who was focused on trying to understand what Lyra meant, tilted her head subconsciously. "What do you mean?"

Lyra sat up more in the tub, "Well, for instance, I have never had anyone buy me anything before." Marisa could tell Lyra was embarrassed from her statement, she had to strain forward to hear her. "All of the clothing I ever owned was given to me by Ms. Lonesdale, which were all used when I got 'em."

Marisa set back in her chair, hands still tangled in Lyra's hair, she could feel guilt tearing at her gut. She looked over at Ozymandias, which helped ground her back to her task. She smiled to herself, driving away from the guilt she felt, well trying to anyway.

"Well, there is plenty more where that came from, from now own everything you acquire will be brand new specifically for you." She said, smiling at Lyra.

Marisa was done shampooing Lyra's hair, so Lyra dunked in the water, clearing the shampoo from her locks. Once Lyra was sitting back up in the tub, Marisa poured the conditioner in her hand before gently working through the ends of Lyra's hair. Making sure she worked from the bottom of her hair up.

Marisa, once again lost in her thoughts, realized in the silence this was the first time since Lyra was a baby that she had helped bathe her daughter. She was brought out of her thoughts to Lyra sinking in the tub. "At Jordan, Mrs. Lonesdale was in charge of washing my hair, picking out my clothes, and brushing my hair, but she hurt and would always leave my head tender and a bit bruised. But when you wash my hair, I just want to fall asleep." Marisa was surprised when Lyra began to laugh at her own statement.

Marisa couldn't help but think about how that should have been her bathing Lyra...  dressing her, seeing her first smile, opening her arms to catch her after her first few steps. The guilt Marisa felt was gnawing at her constantly since she first met Lyra three days ago. Marisa wishes so much she could go back in time and make it right. At these thoughts, she lowered her head and sighed quietly, knowing that was impossible. She was thankful she was sat behind Lyra during the conversation, Lyra had no idea how much pain Marisa felt.

Marisa forced a smile on her face, not wanting to upset Lyra. Or make Lyra question her reaction, "well, I would never hurt you, Lyra, and I promise you I will never allow anyone or thing hurt you." Marisa stood up, walking over the closet, which held the towels "now dunk your head, I am going to grab you a towel."

Marisa grabbed one of the pink towels from the stack and walked back to the tub. She held it out, making sure to cover her face as not to see Lyra as she stood out of the tub, Lyra was her daughter, but she was also twelve and respected her privacy. Lyra looked half her age wrapped in the large fluffy towel.  She looked at Marisa with a sad expression on her face.

"Is this what it would have been like with my mom and dad if they hadn't died?" Lyra asked, staring at the floor.

Marisa didn't know how much longer she would be able to it, she had held herself together, but knew any moment she was at risk for losing it. Marisa hesitantly opened her arms, allowing Lyra to be embraced in her arms. She wrapped her right hand on the back of Lyra's head, gently guiding her into her chest. Holding Lyra, Marisa realized she had made an enormous mistake pushing her maternal feelings away all those years.  She finally understood what the purpose of her life was, and from here on out, she planned to make her number one priority Lyra, as it always should have been.

Marisa relaxing into the hug rested her chin gently on Lyra's hair, which was still soaked from her bath. "Lyra, I may not be your mother, but while you are staying with me, I will take care of you." Marisa closed her eyes tightly with the declaration.

The tears in Marisa's eyes spilled over as she heard her daughter begin to cry, feeling her tremble with every gasp of air. Marisa, surprising even herself, began gently rocking the girl in her arms. Simultaneously making soft shushing sounds like she had done for Lyra when she was a baby. Marisa felt a warmth spill over her when she could physically feel Lyra relax in Marisa's embrace. 

Pulling gently away from Lyra, Marisa guided the girl to her bedroom, her hands softly held on Lyra's shoulders. Once in the room, she turned away, allowing Lyra to change into her purple silk pajamas that Marisa had personally picked out.

Once she was dressed Marisa turned around, looking at her daughter, she could see the sheer exhaustion on her daughter's face, she was sure her face showed the same amount of tiredness.

 Marisa pulled back the sheets, stepping to the side as Lyra slid under them. Pan curled up against Lyra's neck in his ermine shape, which made Marisa smile as it reminded her this was how Pan slept on Lyra when she was a baby.

Marisa smiled at Lyra, who was watching Marisa with eyes that were slits threatening to close. Marisa brushed away a stray hair on Lyra's face before cuffing her little girl's cheek affectionately.  Lyra smiled from the warmth she felt from her mother's affection.

"Goodnight, Lyra." she could feel the warmth and her love for her daughter spilling out.

Marisa slowly and quietly walked over to the door, all while not taking her eyes from her daughter, who was already fast asleep. She stood in the doorway, watching the rise and fall of her daughter's chest, whispered: "I love you, daughter, I will always love you." As she blinked hard saying the words out loud for the first time, tears began to stream down her cheeks, following the same pattern from where they had fallen earlier. Marisa whipped the tears from her cheeks, slowly slipped out of the room before gently pulling the door closed behind her.