Warnings: Spoilers for The Amber Spyglass and The Subtle Knife. Do not proceed if you haven't read.
Summary: All her life, Lyra had gone by many names.
Disclaimer: I do not in any way own the pure genius that is His Dark Materials or the beauty of the couple Will and Lyra. Philip Pullman is in full ownership of everything except my imagination and laptop XD
All her life, Lyra had gone by many names.
When she was born, she was dubbed Lyra Belacqua. It was in that name that she met Roger, explored all of Jordan College, and magnificently attacked the gyptian's boat. It was in that name, that life, and that skin that she learned of the Gobblers. That she bossed around the scholars at the beautiful Jordan College, and that she first started her life by entering the Retiring room against her beloved dæmon, Pantalaimon's, advice.
Because of this, that name was equally neglected and loved by Lyra. Even as a old woman withering into nothing, she could still remember the days she was known as Lyra Belacqua and what that had bridged to.
Then, as she was thrown into a world of evil combat at such a young age, she met Iorek Brynison. Iorek, as tough as he was on the outside, was a creature of such loyalty that Lyra immediately trusted and respected him. As they fought side by side and Lyra tricked a armored bear, he christened her Lyra Silvertongue.
To anyone on the outside, this should be her most loathed name. Her favorite should have been Lyra Belacqua, for that was the name she had when she was young and innocent. That was the name she had when all she had to worry about were night-ghasts coming in her sleep after a prank she pulled. For it wasn't that name she'd suffered such hard ships in. No, Lyra Silvertongue was the name that she used when she for filled the prophecy. It was the name she'd seen her former friend Roger murdered under. It was the name she carried with her to the land of the dead, where she had to abandon Pantalaimon, and almost died. It was the name her parents died fighting for, and it was the name the Church feared.
But to Lyra, it didn't matter. None of the hardships she'd undergone with that name could ever make it the worst. Because, she'd met Will Parry as Lyra Silvertongue. And for the longest time, even after they'd been forced to cruelly leave one another forever, it was still preferred over her first.
But as the years went by, Lyra underwent another name change. And this name is and will always be her favorite of all her names. Because it was the name she wished she could have really had, the name she had subconsciously wanted since she pounced and attacked Will in fright all those years ago. It was a bitter love though, because every time someone said it she was reminded of what she could never really, truly have. She'd never have him in her lifetime, and they'd never be together.
But as names tend to do for you, they helped her remember. Even though she knew she'd never forget her Will, having this name made her feel so much more connected to him. As if even though they were worlds apart, she could still hear his heart beating and feel his warm, loving lips on hers...
When she died, which wasn't long now, she wouldn't have to worry about names. Because she'd be with him for eternities with the best title she'd ever undergone. It would be Will's Lyra, and Lyra's Will. Side by side, forever. And that's all she'd ever have to go by, because that's who she was. She could try and move on, and forget the boy who made her fall in love with China (as Mary Malone would put it), but she'd be lying to herself. Because she was Will's Lyra. And without him, she was just a fake version of that. When her and Will finally reunited again, she could whisper to him softly how she'd undergone such drastic name changes. She'd whisper and it would sound like the moonlight—soft, cool, and like gentle sparks a light on your bare skin—that no matter what her name was, she'd always been his. Always.
And as Lyra prepared to take her last breath, she leaned against the cold wooden bench and looked all around her at the nature of the Garden's. She knew that somewhere, in another world, Will was preparing his last too. And together, they'd be one.
Serafina Pekkala gently set her hand on her dying sister's arm. It was cold, and she knew she had only a few more seconds. Serafina kissed her goodbye and whispered,
"Farewell, Lyra Parry, may you always find peace."
And she would. Because now, she would always be Will's Lyra. And that was all the name she ever needed.