averygoodun42 | Overdue Drabbles

So, I owe both

subvers each a drabble from His Dark Materials Trilogy. They both asked for a Lyra/Will situation. Well, before I could write them, I need to do a bit of research, and that took a bit longer than I expected. And then, when I finally got an idea, it went overboard.

The upshot is that instead of two Lyra/Will drabbles, one for each of you, here's a serial drabble of six. Hope you enjoy.

The End

I.
Will sat down on the bench, moving slowly so as not to aggravate his knees. He was grateful for his cane, though he still groused about needing it.

It was nearly noon. He wondered if Lyra would be there this year.

It was raining here. It wasn't raining so much as misting, a dreary cloud pressing down on the gardens, graying everything out eerily.

It reminded him terribly of the World of the Dead.

He continued to sit on the bench, wondering if Lyra ever felt him, as he did her. Usually. This year... He wondered if she was there.

II.
Will felt the urge to move. He wanted to wait until the hour was up, but he felt compelled to move. Resisting, he continued to sit and meditate on Lyra.

The gray cloud was pressing down more aggressively, and as he looked around, he felt sure that a bank of fog had moved in as the world he knew disappeared into the void.

He still felt the need to move.

He closed his eyes. He'd felt so tired lately. He somehow knew this would be his last year. He'd wait for her, though. He'd wait for her at the door.

III.
He'd been surprised by the lack of pain when he'd got up, but only for a moment. Looking around, surveying the gray, he realized it wasn't fog. It was nothing. The world had faded away, and this time it wasn't coming back.

He spared a thought for his daughters, hoping they wouldn't be too distressed, but he knew they were strong.

The trek was a lot shorter than he remembered, and the destination a lot more pleasant. His death met him halfway there, and they reminisced the rest of the way, remembering all the love and laughter of his life.

IV.
The boatman wasn't surprised to meet him again, but Will didn't question it too much. He probably had heard of Will and Lyra's escape. He had almost certainly noticed the changes around him, the decrease of decay.

Will was surprised when the boatman offered his hand upon reaching the shore. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to.

The harpies weren't as bad as Will remembered, either. They were healthier, prettier and far less threatening. He smiled, seeing how much better it was to feast on the wholesome rather than just the wicked.

Gracious Wings herself led him in.

V.
This world was much as Will remembered it. It was still muted, with a dull, shadowless light, but it was far emptier, which made him happy.

Before he could contemplate how well their fight had gone, he was engulfed in a cloud of ghostly arms, hair and cheer.

"Oh, Will! I so hoped you hadn't come and gone!"

"I would have waited," he replied cheerfully after they relaxed their grip on one another. "I would have waited forever."

When Lyra smiled at him, he knew his visions had been real. She really was his heaven, and he'd finally come home.

VI.
Gracious Wings escorted them to the exit, listening as they told each other about their lives. She smiled fondly at the two lovers, holding hands unconsciously, lost in each other's glow.

She was happy for them: for finding each other after so long, and for managing to live long, full and joyful lives without the other's presence. She listened and felt their love fill her undying hunger, and she was grateful.

When they reached the exit, she was surprised when Lyra looked away from Will to her.

"Thank you," Lyra said, then found her freedom, hand in hand with Will.