Anything recognizable is the property of the appropriate owners. I do not make any claim to ownership, nor do I make any money from this.
Note: I have not seen past Season 4, Episode 9: After.
The first time he noticed her, she was crouched next to a tree, fingers digging into the loamy soil, intent on whatever she was trying to do. Daryl's first instinct was to confront her being as he didn't recognize the woman with the shaved head, but a loud voice echoed over the ridge between them and camp.
"Carol! Don't make me come lookin' for you!"
He recognized Ed's voice and surmised this must be his wife despite telling the others he was alone. The woman's close shorn head snapped up towards the camp and she hurriedly pushed the rich soil back into the hole she had made. She stood brushing off her hands and quickly trotted back towards camp, leaving Daryl curious about her actions. It wasn't a latrine hole as she hadn't touched her pants, and he could have sworn he saw her drop something in the hole before filling it in.
"I told you not to wander off." Ed's voice carried over the ravine followed by the woman's response.
"I'm sorry. I had to go to the bathroom." Carol blatantly lied, so the hunter approached the hole.
The sharp sound of a slap echoed through the trees and Daryl's hackles went up. No doubt Mr Peletier took after Mr Dixon which would explain his lie about having a wife so he could keep her away from prying eyes. Knowing it wasn't his business about their marriage, the bowman didn't charge up the hill to confront him, instead he crouched down to push his fingers into the freshly disturbed soil. It wasn't very deep and he immediately felt something hard among the dirt and brushed it off. In the palm of his filthy hand sat an acorn. He stared at the rich golden browns of the seed and puzzled over why the slightly greying woman would plant a tree at the end of the world. Sound further from camp drew the hunter's attention and he stuffed the acorn in his pocket, stalking towards a walker drawn nearer to camp.
He started noticing her around camp more often, usually on the edge, sitting quietly while working on some small task with her daughter nearby while Ed watched her like a hawk and doing absolutely nothing to help anyone. Daryl's inherent dislike of the man only grew, especially after Merle proved to get along with him just fine. The short haired woman kept her head down, doing the same thing the hunter did, try to be invisible, but he wasn't interested in making friends, just surviving. And he knew everyone in the group was a liability that weren't worth his time. Soon as things went south, him and Merle were going to grab what they could and book it. What he hadn't anticipated, however, was the Sheriff to show up and his brother to suddenly be gone.
By the time they returned to the camp, it was pandemonium. Daryl instantly went into battle mode, sending bolts through rotten skulls and stabbing at anything that tried to eat him. Eventually all that was left was Andrea and Amy's cries and he set about clearing up the walkers to keep busy. He didn't know what to do with the protracted goodbye, hell he didn't even know the people he shoved the axe through. But it needed to be done and it gave him an excuse to remain separate. At least until a soft touch on his arm made him stop before crushing Ed's skull. Most of the others didn't bother talking directly to him, but she even met his eyes, blue as a carefree summer's day, so he handed over the axe and watched her put the tool through the abusive bastard's head three times. Daryl was more than a little impressed, wondering if maybe he was wrong to write them all off so quickly as he fingered the smooth shell of the acorn in his pocket.
Nothing much changed on the trek to the CDC. No one was near watchful enough for Daryl's taste, and they all made so much noise. Not a single one of them could go ten feet without shouting something across camp or laughing raucously as if they were out for an extended holiday trip and not potentially surrounded by ravenous walkers at all times. The only one that seemed to actually take his warnings of silence seriously was Carol who dutifully tended to all the little things no one else thought of. Honestly, he didn't know the first thing about her, but he saw potential in her. She took direction well, observed keenly, and even though she didn't know how to take down a walker or shoot, she was smart enough to survive, like when she produced the grenade that bought them exit from the CDC. That and the fact that she seemed to have the uncanny ability to appear out of nowhere at his elbow, startling him something awful with bowls of food or a drink. Her tendency towards invisibility challenged his ingrained observations, always drawing his eyes to her, searching for her when he returned from hunts and runs.
She intrigued him with shy smiles and genuine thanks when he dragged dinner out of the woods and helped her dress it. He was impressed that she didn't balk from the bloody job of butchering the animals, and she was a fine cook. It was no lie that the fastest way to a man's heart was through his stomach. So when her little girl went missing on Rick's watch, Daryl was determined to bring her back. But it was like chasing a ghost. He'd pick up her trail before a walker crossed it, would follow the walker until he caught up with it and put it out of its misery. Then miraculously, he would find Sophia's trail once more just to lose it again. It was infuriating, which didn't help when the rest of the group seemed to worry more about the Grimes boy than the missing girl so he couldn't give up. Even when he had an uncoordinated moment and was thrown from the horse, fell down the ravine, and skewered himself on a bolt, then got winged alongside the head by Andrea.
Daryl flinched when she said he'd done more for Sophia than her daddy ever did, and he hated himself for breaking down and screaming that she wasn't his. He didn't deserve the gentle kiss she laid upon his brow, or the careful way she moved around him so as not to startle him, like she knew him, watched him like he watched her. When Sophia stumbled out of the barn, the hunter's heart cried out for the shattered woman and all he could do was save her from herself, knowing she would have run to her little girl and held her close only to be bitten. The bowman was too invested in her to allow her life to be wasted so needlessly, even as she drove her nails into his skin. There was some concern, however, that it hadn't been enough as she seemed to fade into the woods around the farm. If he hadn't known she would eventually end up at her daughter's grave, Daryl never would have found her, Carol's footsteps vanishing periodically in the leaf litter.
He idly rubbed the warm acorn in his pocket, feeling the smoothness of the shell and the knurled top, still curious about its meaning, watching her pull away from the group even as she didn't shy away from him. The hunter considered trying to teach her some skills such as trapping, but felt the time was wrong, like she hadn't decided if she was going to go on living yet. Fortunately, when he pulled his bike up next to her surrounded by walkers, Carol decided she did want to live and climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms securely around his torso. They had lost much due to unpreparedness, but they lived and Daryl decided to give the short haired woman every tool he could. And she took to them like a moth to a flame. She was a natural at disappearing into the underbrush and evading even his keen senses, finally laughing for the first time since losing Sophia on the highway when she managed to sneak up on and startle the experienced hunter while he was attempting to track her.
It was frankly impressive considering he was quite at home in the woods but she just melted into the forest effortlessly, like she belonged there rather than in a suburban kitchen as a housewife. Yet she didn't seem to be pulling away as before, focusing on the new life Lori carried, putting her hope in something rather than stew on the past. Daryl hoped he was a part of that when Carol took extra care to make sure he ate with the rest and hesitantly shared her blankets the first night the temperature really dropped. They just understood each other without the need to talk about everything. She saw his scars and could deduce their source and he knew about Ed, putting them on even footing, comfortable to let whatever their connection was go unnamed. So when he felt that the smaller woman had absorbed everything he had to share, Daryl contemplated the acorn again. It must have meant something to her, so when an opportunity presented itself when they were quietly enjoying a night's watch as winter gave way to spring, he held out his fist.
Carol hesitantly put her hand out and gasped when he dropped the acorn into her palm. "Where did you get this?"
"First time I saw ya." He couldn't raise his voice much more than a whisper. "Saw ya burry it."
She held the seed up so it was silhouetted against the firelight. "My grandmother said we were descended from dryads and that if I buried an acorn in the woods, that's where my soul would rest, in the bows of the tree."
Everything clicked for the hunter, he remembered the stories his mother used to tell him late at night as they waited for his father to come home drunk and angry. Dryads were shy forest creatures that usually protected one tree. No wonder she could seemingly disappear in the woods. "I'm sorry I moved your seed then."
Carol closed her hand around the acorn, feeling the familiar weight of it in her palm. "Don't be. I thought I was going to die at any moment. But now, I don't plan on giving up so easy."
Daryl nodded, glad that she seemed to be moving on from losing Sophia. "My ma told me about Dryads. Said they were shy, only had one friend in tha world."
"And who was that?" The short haired woman asked, genuinely curious, having never bothered with the old myths much due to Ed's heavy hand.
"Tha huntress Artemis. Goddess of animals an tha hunt." He watched the light of the campfire dance over her skin, making her silver hair shine like gold. Daryl wasn't ready to say he loved her, but knew he was well on his way, drawn by the hints of steel he caught under her caring exterior.
Carol smiled broadly, almost reaching her eyes. "My Artemis." She nudged her shoulder against his and left her slight weight leaning against his side.
He liked the sound of that. To be the protector of something with roots that connected him to the land and those in it. She was worth every painful moment of their new reality. Maybe when they reached Fort Banning or wherever was safe enough, he would see if she might be interested in more. But in the meantime, it was nice having someone to rely on and he leaned back against her, memorizing every moment they had together, well aware how quickly things could change.