~*A Breeze Between Times*~

Disclaimer: I do not own the book series, His Dark Materials. It belongs to the wonderful genius, Philip Pullman.

A/N: This idea came to me a long time ago. I never thought of actually typing it up until now, when I ran out of other ideas. O.o; Please R&R!

~*~

Lyra sighed as she sat on the left side of a bench in the botanical gardens. Yes, it had been a year, and yes, she was still attached to Will. Even if it had been a year, she still could not forget his ebony black hair, straight eyebrows, and flaring black eyes. Those eyes which Serafina Pekkala the Witch dared not look into. Pantalaimon lay on Lyra's lap, resting peacefully. The flowers around Lyra were brightly colored, and assorted so they could enchant even the surliest person. The sweet scent of the flowers around her rose around her like a blanket. How she missed Will… a tear slipped out of the corner of her eye, which soon became silent rivers of salty tears.

~*~

In Will's time, he was sitting on a bench in the botanical gardens, as well. Only he was sitting on the right side. He thought of Lyra, with her dirty blond hair and demanding eyes. It was a year, true, but her image was still bright in his mind. Kirjava's coat gleamed subtle colors as she lay at Will's feet. Will could still remember the exact time and place where Lyra stroked Kirjava's coat, making her settle in her panther-like form. A droplet of water fell to his left. Curious, he looked there. More droplets fell, appearing from nowhere. But then, it began to rain, rivers of water flowing from the sky. He knew, somehow, instinctively, Lyra was crying. That was the only reason for the mysterious droplets of water. How he longed to reach out and put his arm around her, and comfort her. But he couldn't; she was in another world, another time, but yet, the same place. The rain, after a while, quickly stopped. One last droplet fell on Will's face. He knew it was different. He placed his finger on it, closed his eyes, and said one word. Yet it was filled with emotion, love, sadness, happiness, longing, the list went on and on…

"Lyra…" was the word.

~*~

The tears stopped flowing. Lyra felt like someone had put an arm around her. A gentle breeze blew around Lyra, picking up leaves, raising them in a flurry of greens, browns, oranges, and reds around her. It seemed to speak, say a word seemingly familiar, sounding like 'Lyra…'

"Will…" she whispered in return, as she stared at the breeze. She knew in Will's time, there was the same breeze, carrying the same words. A breeze between times.

~*~

A/N: So how was it? Good? Bad? Too short? Please tell me in a review!