Day 2: Favourite place(Botanic gardens)

Summary: Agreeing to meet every summer in the botanical gardens of Oxford, Will and Lyra share what they've been up to in the past year to one another.

It was on the balmy days of late summer that two frequent visitors arrived, the time being midday.

A boy and his dæmon, mistaken for a house pet, came to a certain spot in the entire clearing, one that was very special to the both of them, a wooden bench under a large oak that always welcomed them with open arms.

It was under mellow skies that the boy found himself taking in the familiar scent of the botanical gardens that he adores. There was an array of foliage from high trees that blanketed them all here in nature's palms and there were beds of a million flowers that the boy couldn't begin to name, on display to the public.

His name was William Parry. His dæmon was Kirjava, a cat that held her tail up as high as the sun.

Each time they've walked through this place, it felt like they were trespassing into a lost paradise of some sorts. It was as if nothing but happiness could be shared among this safe space.

But with his eyes shining against the yellow shine of the sunflowers, his skin complimenting the bearded irises and his lips as tender as the petals of lavenders, he knows that today is the only day in the entire year that he'll intoxicate this garden whole.

"Can you smell that?" His dæmon asks him, following him down the path of the garden.

The boy held his tongue for a second, he heard of many names of all different kinds of flowers pop up in his mind. But alas, he only settled with the three he felt most familiar with. "Roses, lilies, carnations, there's so many scents all blended together, it's hard to tell." He replies to his companion.

The cat purred. "That's what I smell too." She agrees with him in contemptment. They were one, if that's what he smelled, she smelled it too.

"Well, she's probably already here. Come on, Kirjava." He strolled away from his cat-shaped dæmon, knowing very well that she would follow him despite their ability to separate from one another.

Kirjava padded quietly behind him, keeping at a slow pace to take in the scenery of this place that they only return to once per year, it never fails to amaze the both of them.

He took a seat down on the bench, keeping to the right side as he always did each time he came here. Before they said goodbye to each other for the last time, this is where he had sat down meanwhile Lyra was on the left.

The two of them knew very well that they would memorize the seating, they would memorize anything to keep the scene as it was two years ago.

"Hi, Lyra, how are you?" He goes silent and he nervously glances down to look at his dæmon, who was sitting by his feet. It happens every year that he's no longer surprised at the accidental and reoccurring tradition.

He pauses because he couldn't physically see Lyra, and he knew how strange it was to be talking to thin air. But both he and his dæmon knew that she and Pantalaimon were listening to him on the other side of this bench. The cat tilted her head to the side, giving him a look that said: 'Well, speak?'

The boy nodded to himself and even with no one around, he continued to talk nonetheless like he really was talking to someone.

"I'm doing fine, in case you responded already, high school has kept me busy, how is school in your world?" Again, another pause for her to respond and when Will felt it was long enough, he picked back up. His mind lit up with information that he nearly forgot, he just had to tell her.

"Did I ever tell you that I'm studying to become a doctor?" He stifled a laugh to ease the silence, he could hear Lyra's shocked gasps and encouraging words beside him, even if he was probably only imagining them, it was a nice thought.

"Yeah, my mum's been very proud of me, she always has been. She tells me my dad would be too if he were still here."

It was thanks to her that he even got the chance to meet his real father, even if it was only for a couple of seconds. He's never been so thankful. He's thankful of their adventures and her leading him to the subtle knife in the world of the Specters.

"Lyra," he says absentmindedly for a second. He didn't know what caused the sudden defocus, was it hesitation? He did want her to know something that happened a few days ago, but he wasn't sure if on the other side of the bench, she would be as delighted as he was.

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. It was foolish thinking and he felt for a second like he was making decisions for Lyra. She wasn't imaginary, she was very much real and she was listening to him on the other side of this bench.

He couldn't lie to her about this, he and his dæmon knew it. He had a feeling that deep down, he was overthinking things. Lyra would be proud of him for coming this far, so he saw no reason to hide from her. He sighs, bringing his hands to his knees.

"I made some new friends at school recently." He stared at the ground as he spoke. "We found out we had similar interests and they've treated me very kindly. I decided to be more open and this is where it led me. I'm very happy with how far I've gone."

The pause didn't go on for long because Will's face suddenly lurched with indistinguishable panic, he could picture Lyra's envious frown from the other side of the bench looking right at him. His heart dropped.

Picking himself up from fumbling over his words, he cleared his throat and shook his head in distress at where she sat. "But I want you to know that no one's ever going to replace you, you're my very best friend."

His pulse began to calm when he reassured her that she will always be the one for him, and his shoulders eased at that. "There's no one else that I'm ever going to cross worlds with, meet in Cittagáze, and I cannot imagine anyone else believing in me as much as you have. Nor would I want there to be."

He admitted to her, a smile creeping back on his lips — he was realizing that as he spoke about their days together, how much he missed spending time with her and how much he missed talking with her face to face.

Will knew that he had nothing more to say to her, his life went on as ordinary as ever. Even if he did, he had a feeling that a topic about the traffic jams, the latest models for telephones and the gain of popularity of new industries was of no interest to her.

So the boy said his final words with a bitter smile, "I love you, always. I never stopped loving you." He reminded her at the end of these talks, that he will always, always, love her.

His heart beats with tears at the memory that she was away, everyday. It continues to beat for her, and only her.

Nobody from his friend group can even remotely begin to become a replacement to Lyra Silvertongue, no matter how close Will was with them. Lyra will always be Lyra, his Lyra. Oh, help him, if she ever doubted him one day. He wouldn't bear it.

Glancing back down his dæmon, Will chuckled and he raised his head back up as if he forgot to say something else to her. "Say hi to Pantalaimon for me." He tells her. He couldn't help but watch with a glimmer of a snicker how Kirjava's eyes lit up at the mention of the pine marten's name, she missed him too.

——————-

In another world, one that was very far away and exceptionally different from Will's, there was a young adolescent that sat on the left side of the very same bench. She lowered a hand to lay beside her leg, her fingers clutching the wood loosely, as if she was holding onto something — onto someone else's hand.

Her name was Lyra Silvertongue, and beside her was Pantalaimon.

The two of them stayed silent, focusing on the chirps of songbirds and the wind bristled through her hair, carrying the fragrance of many different flowers that Lyra could barely tell apart. "Sunflowers, poppies and orchids." She whispered with a small smile , loud enough for her friend to hear.

"Wrong. It's roses, lilies and carnations." corrected Pan, who sat at the head of the bench. His muzzle shoved a few strands of her hair away from her cheeks.

Lyra couldn't help but give an amused grin, "How do you know?" she asks her dæmon softly, her eyes shining — but still latched on to the deep sadness that has never left her heart since all gateways between worlds have closed forever.

There was still a hope in her, about the size of a candle's light, that she would be able to cross worlds and see Will again one day. But as short summer mornings leave and long winter nights take over, the flame dies down, leaving her as cold as she was when she first arrived in the North.

Pantalaimon simply looked up at the milky blue skies, "I just do." Lyra didn't have the need to question her dæmon further, she trusted his word, she always will.

The two fell into a brief silence, taking the time to enjoy their surroundings. She was looking at thorned rose bushes and her heart felt a surge at the irony that those were the first plants she laid eyes on.

She moves her head to look at flowers that matched with her hair locks, casting as golden in the sun's light. Then, Lyra finally spoke, accompanied with a little laugh. She hid it with everything she could muster, but Pan knew all too well that it was a laugh of sorrow.

"It's been two years since I last saw you in person," the girl breathed out quietly, her tiny smile from the short laugh beginning to fall from her lips. She never stopped coming here, every year, during the summer at midday. "How have you been doing, Will?" She waited a few seconds, looking over to Pantalaimon, before she continued to speak once again, pretending that the boy replied to her.

"Oh, that's good that you've been doing well!" Her lips twitched uneasily as she forced herself to beam cheerfully, pretending to have heard all about his endeavours, when really, she didn't know about them at all — there was no one else on the bench aside from her. "I've begun attending St. Sophia's, to study the alethiometer again." She paused to swallow, thinking back on the lessons that her professors have given her, she tries to pay attention, she really does.

She had realized that Will probably didn't know much about St. Sophia's, after all, the education system and the structure of schools itself worked very differently in both worlds. She bit her tongue and looked over to Pantalaimon, waiting for a sign on whether she should explain herself further. The pine marten gives her a quiet nod and waits at her side.

"It was my mother's alma mater when she was still alive. I've been told that I was just like her while studying in the grand library." She tells the boy, who was sitting on the other side of her, "I don't know whether I should be pleased with such comments. But at least, she isn't all too bad...that's what you told me, right? She kept me safe in that cavern two years ago."

It wasn't worth rambling about her parents anymore, she knew that they were both dead in the fight against Metatron.

But she couldn't hide the initial look of shock and genuine sadness on her face when the alethiometer at the college finally gave her answers. Lyra was left once again an orphan.

Each time she caught herself thinking about Lord Asriel or Mrs. Coulter, she tells Pan that she couldn't begin to fathom even the slightest idea of missing them.

It was a feeling that betrayed her heart several times when she found herself alone. She couldn't understand it even until now.

She knew very little about them, most of the things she's found out about them weren't all that great. Not to mention, unlike Will, her parents were never there for her. So, why start missing them now?

The idea of living in a family was something that Lyra had been imagining ever since she was still under the care of the Master of Jordan College; she longed for loving parents who actually do love her and she wanted to be told that they were proud of her.

The chances of that have long been washed away and Lyra couldn't help but feel a shallow jealousy whenever crossing the roads of Oxford and seeing children hand in hand with their parents.

She's been so incredibly lonely here. Neither Lyra nor Pantalaimon wanted to reach that conclusion, but it was true, as much as it made them feel weak and pathetic deep down.

She picks her shoulders back up and continues to talk, changing the topic to focus on her studies instead. "It's been difficult to understand the symbols all over again and sometimes I feel like I haven't learned anything at all. But Dame Hannah's been very supportive and she knows that I can do it. That's why I haven't given up. I know that you believe in me too, Will."

Her smile has returned on her face, she sees him smiling back at her — even being as bold as to place a hand on her shoulder, an imaginary touch that Lyra oh so wished was real.

"I love you so much, more than you could possibly know." She mutters out in response to that, there was a sneaky tear that dared roll down her cheek. She doesn't use her fingers to wipe it away. She wanted Will to know how much she loved him, she didn't want him to ever doubt it.

"Don't forget me ever, I beg you. I will never forget you either, for as long as I live, you'll be the only one for me.." her voice began to die down as the grief was beginning to take over her all over again. Her eyes darkened.

She lowered her head to her hands and they captured it in a loose hold. "Oh, Will, when will I ever see you again?" She whispered sadly.

In the quiet of the botanic gardens of Oxford, Pantalaimon could only lower his ears at the sound of his human's soft sobs. And they sat there for another hour or so, cursing their cruel fate.
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Thank you for reading! Oh my, this sure was a charm to write! I cannot grasp how much I deeply love these two, and wish for them to be happy with all of my heart. I've read many versions of this scene and each of them has captured the emotions felt by these two adolescents so well! Therefore, with the prompt list giving me the opportunity to do so, I wrote my interpretation of this scene! I didn't know who I would settle for in terms of POVS, but for the extra misery and the torture, I decided to do snippets for both of them, haha