Chapter Text
Welcome to the first chapter of Heartbeats Beneath the Shattered Worlds. I wanted to explore a new ending for Marisa Coulter, a character who has captivated me since I first encountered her in Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials. My journey through the books, along with my admiration for the film adaptations and the series, inspired me to reimagine Marisa's fate in a way that offers her a new layer of depth and resolution.
Enjoy :)
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Lyra lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Beside her, Tony slept peacefully, his fingers lightly resting on hers. Pan, her daemon, curled on her chest, his fur slightly bristling, reflecting her unease. The house was silent, but Lyra's mind wasn't. Questions stormed through her, and an emptiness gnawed at her—a sense that someone was missing.
She thought about her life with Tony, the warmth and safety they shared. But no matter how much she cherished him, her thoughts always circled back to Marisa Coulter. Despite everything, part of her longed to know what happened to her mother after their final farewell.
Careful not to disturb Tony, Lyra slipped out of bed, her bare feet silent on the wooden floor. She moved to a shelf and took out a small wooden box. Inside was a piece of Serafina Pekkala's Cloud Pine, given to her by Dr. Lanselius, so she could summon Serafina. Pan stirred, jumping down to sit by her feet, watching her closely.
"You’re sure about this, Lyra?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.
Lyra paused, her hand curling around the bottle. She looked down at Pan, meeting his wary gaze, then nodded. "I need to know, Pan. I can't keep pretending I don't care. I need answers."
The cool night air greeted her as she stepped outside. The moon cast a silvery glow across the village, stretching long shadows. Lyra moved silently, Pan padding beside her in his ermine form, his white fur glowing softly in the moonlight.
They reached the edge of the village, where the river met the forest. The familiar scent of earth and water filled the air, pulling a memory from the depths of her mind, vivid and inescapable.
Suddenly, she was a child again, in a room of white stone by the sea. She felt the rough linen beneath her, the salt air chilling her skin. Mrs. Coulter—her mother—sat beside her, murmuring softly, her words like spells. Though drugged and drifting in a haze, Lyra could still hear her. Tales of far-off lands, battles, kingdoms, and betrayals. And through it all, a voice trembling with something fragile—something that almost seemed like love.
“From the moment I saw you, Lyra, from the moment you were born,” Marisa murmured, her voice trembling with emotion, “I knew I loved you more than anything. You are my heart, Lyra. But Edward—my husband—he would have destroyed you. He knew you weren't his, that you were Asriel’s child. He would have killed you without a second thought. Asriel saved you.” Her voice faltered, breaking into a softer confession. “And now I must keep you safe from everyone, even myself. People will believe I have no child. They must, for both our sakes. But know this, Lyra—my love for you is real, no matter how the world may see it.”
The memory faded, leaving only the ache behind. Lyra blinked, her vision adjusting as she reached the river. The Cloud Pine felt heavier in her hand as she struggled to reconcile the love, betrayal, and strange tenderness of those memories.
Pan’s voice broke through her reverie. “What’s on your mind, Lyra?”
Lyra sighed, staring at the water. "I dreamt about her, Pan. Those days by the sea. She held me, spoke like she cared, but everything else she did seemed to say the opposite. I don't know what was real."
Pan’s eyes softened. "Your dreams were more than dreams, Lyra. I remember them. I saw what you saw, even when you were lost in the haze. Her love was real, even if it was buried beneath everything else."
Lyra swallowed, tears burning her eyes. She took a deep breath and raised the Cloud Pine, her heart pounding. The air began to hum, the vibration growing until it almost filled the silence of the night.
From the shadows of the trees, Serafina Pekkala emerged, her form ethereal and timeless. Lyra's breath caught as Serafina's eyes widened in worry. She moved quickly to Lyra, her voice filled with concern. "Lyra, are you all right? I felt something—like a disturbance. I feared for you."
Lyra shook her head, her eyes filled with emotion. "I'm okay, Serafina. I just... I need to know something." Serafina paused, her expression softening. "I've been waiting, Lyra. I knew one day you might ask. What is it, child?"
Lyra hesitated, then took a deep breath. "What happened to my mother, Serafina? What happened to Marisa?"
Serafina’s eyes grew distant, as if listening to something only she could hear. A moment later, she turned back to Lyra, her voice soft but resolute. “Marisa and Asriel ventured beyond our world’s grasp, into the abyss. Their aim was to save not only you but all of us. Their sacrifice was both noble and tragic.”
Lyra’s heart ached with a mixture of hope and sorrow. “So she’s gone? Lost with Asriel?”
Serafina nodded, her expression filled with solemn respect. “Their legacy endures in the world they saved. But Lyra, your journey is not yet complete. Your mother’s fate and yours are still intertwined.”
Serafina stepped closer, her gaze intense. "An angel spoke to me, Lyra. It's not just curiosity driving you—it's fate. You'll need your mother soon."
Lyra’s breath hitched. “You can find her?”
Serafina nodded slowly. “I can find her. But the journey is fraught with dangers you cannot face, not now.”
Lyra's brow furrowed, determination sparking in her eyes. "I'll go with you. She's my mother. I can't stay here!"
Serafina shook her head gently, placing one hand on Lyra's stomach and the other on her forehead, her lips brushing Lyra’s brow. A heartbeat echoed in Lyra’s ears—a steady pulse that wasn't her own.
Lyra’s eyes widened, her gaze dropping to her stomach in shock. Serafina’s voice was gentle. “Your journey lies here now, Lyra. You carry another life within you. You must protect it.”
Tears filled Lyra’s eyes as understanding settled over her. She nodded slowly. "Thank you, Serafina."
Serafina offered a comforting smile as she began to fade into the mist. "When the time comes, Lyra, you'll be reunited. Trust that."
As Serafina vanished into the night, Lyra stood by the river, the cool breeze brushing her skin, the weight of her new purpose settling in her chest. Pan leaned against her ankle, grounding her with his warmth.
“We’ll wait, then,” Lyra whispered, her gaze steady on the horizon. She knew her path was far from over, but for now, she had something—someone—worth fighting for.