Six Settlings - His Dark Materials fanfiction
Six characters, six dæmons, six settling. I was going to do three, and have one settle quite dramatically, one suddenly, but for no apparent reason, and one gradually, but I really wanted to do one for the Master of Jordan College (what? I like him, and I had an idea for it) so I ended up doing six, with two of each.
Mrs Coulter
Though she never admitted it (it wasn’t something that was discussed very often, so this wasn’t hard) Marisa Coulter’s dæmon settled in a Church, whilst she sat next to her mother, listening to the Vicar preach about original sin (this, she thought later, was rather ironic, though she was fairly certain the sermon could have been about anything).
He’d been curled up on the floor as a cat - she’d felt sure that he’d settle as some kind of feline - when he was quite suddenly a golden monkey, climbing onto her lap.
It had taken her a moment to realise what had happened, and then her first emotion had been surprise, then something like disgust at her dæmon settling in a form that was - almost inferior to the subtle elegance of the cat.
Then she’d noticed the way the light from the large windows made his fur shimmer, and had spent the rest of the service engrossed in admiring his newfound golden sheen.
By the time they left the church, she’d almost forgotten that he’d ever been in another form.
Lord Asriel
Asriel had once been rather short. He’d been one of those boys who’d taken a while to start growing, and, therefore, had been one of the smallest boys in his class at school.
To make matters worse, his dæmon stayed unsettled for a long time, until he was nearly fifteen.
To top it off, the richer boys (like him) were almost always resented by the less well off (like three of the largest boys with the most formidable dæmons in his class), and as such he was quite often cornered in the dormitory, or round behind one of the buildings, or anywhere where the school masters weren’t.
Two months before his fifteenth birthday he found himself trapped in the corner where the library met the main school building, with three large boys, an alsatian, a lynx and a hawk closing in.
Beside him, Stelmaria flicked through all the forms she could think of, finally cowering behind him as a rabbit, and then, with a sudden surge of bravery, stepping out in front as a small cat.
She hissed at them, and there were jeers. She did it again, but this time it evolved into a roar as she changed from small hissing spitting cat to large roaring snarling snow leopard.
The dæmons, who could actually be hurt, turned tail first, followed by their shocked humans.
He strode into the dormitory that night with her at his side. They didn’t bother him any more.
Lee Scoresby
Lee Scoresby had always liked the sky. He’d had hopes that Hester might settle as a bird, so he wouldn’t be quite so bound to the earth, but it never happened.
She’d spent more and more time as a hare as they got older.
“I wish you’d spend more time as a bird, Hester.” he’d said one day.
“Well, I kinda like this shape.” was all she’d said.
Then, one day, sitting outside at twilight, it occurred to him that she hadn’t changed all day, or the day before that. Or, for that matter, for about a week.
“You gonna change any time soon?” he’d said.
She’d considered the question - examining her hare-body quite carefully - before answering. “No.” she said at last.
He’d considered saying that he’d kind of wanted a bird form, but felt like if he pressed her she might not be settled any more. Besides, with dæmons you got what you got and that was it. Everyone knew that.
So they’d sat and stared at nothing in particular for a while, then gone back inside, where Lee concluded that it was worth having an earth-bound dæmon for the sake of having something soft and furry in bed at night.
The Master of Jordan
The dæmon of the boy who became the Master of Jordan College (the oldest, richest and all-round best college in Oxford) was constantly changing, more than most, he thought, until he was thirteen and a half, when his father (a lowly under-scholar) first took his son to see the inside of his own college (not the great Jordan, as it happened), and left him alone in the library whilst he spoke outside with a second, most likely superior, scholar.
He’d grown bored of standing near the door, and wandered into the library.
He had to admit, later, that the library in this particular college was almost as large as that of Jordan. He’d stood staring at what was more books put together in one place than he’d ever seen before, and his dæmon had become a raven and flown as high as she could, peering at the titles, wondering what could be in them all.
Soon his father had come and quietly called him away, and they’d left with one last wistful look.
As they walked down the corridor, his dæmon whispered that she didn’t think she wanted to change any more, and he’d silently agreed.
John Faa
John Faa’s dæmon had settled one day when he was twelve, whilst they were on the move. He’d been set scrubbing the deck - it may have been a punishment, or just chores, he couldn’t quite remember.
So he’d scrubbed, and grumbled and complained to his dæmon as she switched forms; for a while she was a goldfish in the water bucket, then a frog amongst the soap suds, then a spaniel, then a hawk like his father’s dæmon flying above his head.
After half an hour of scrubbing and complaining, she’d flown down to perch on the edge of the bucket as a crow.
“It’s not fair at all,” he’d been saying, “They never make Mary-”
She’d interrupted him quietly. “I’m settled.” she’d said.
There’d been a long moment of silence. Then he’d gone back to scrubbing, this time quietly, before realising that he may as well stop, at least for a few minutes, while he told his parents.
He suspected it hadn’t be a punishment seeing as they gave him the day to himself as soon as they realised what had happened. Mary had scowled at him, and stuck out her tongue, but he and his crow-dæmon just gave her haughty looks and went to tell his Uncle.
Farder Coram
Farder Coram’s dæmon had settled ever such a long time ago. He may have been thirteen, but he may have been twelve, he wasn’t quite sure.
He knew that he was lying in bed when he realised, contemplating such important matters as what chores he would do the next day, and what would be for dinner, when he noticed that Sophonax hadn’t changed into her usual sleep form, and nor had she done so the night before, nor the night before that.
“You usually sleep as a kitten.” he’d remarked.
“Yes,” she’d said. “I used to, didn’t I?”
He hadn’t thought much of her use of the past tense until the next moring, when he realised that his dæmon had settled (in her autumn-coloured cat form, he was glad to see; it had been one of his favorites), and he wasn’t quite sure when. He’d been expecting to be annoyed by his dæmon being stuck in one form, not by not knowing exactly when it had happened.
He always felt a little jealous of people who had some great story about how their dæmon had settled.