Beth felt a sudden rush of deranged joy when she heard her assailant grunt as her foot collided with his ribs. She had been foolish to lay down. For all she knew, it could have been Sheriff Walsh grabbing her. Quickly, she rose to her feet, the realization hitting her full force.
"Stay away." Beth ordered, rising to her feet just as the man did the same. The first thing Beth noticed was the sheer girth of the man. He was not wide in the middle, like some people she knew who drank too much wine or ate too many helpings. This man's mass came from muscle. As he shook off his pants, his arms were like cords, tight and lean. Beth got a full view of them as the man's shirt was sleeveless, even in the chilled weather. Even in the night, Beth could tell the man wore all black and Beth fought to remain calm when she saw the bow strapped to his shoulder.
This man was a thief.
Beth quickly schooled her face when the man's eyes met hers. She recognized his expression immediately: utter disgust. On the inside, she recoiled from his hate, but she stood her ground. If this man wanted to rob her, she wasn't going to make it easy for him. Well, easier.
"What do you want?" She asked, her voice betraying her when it shook. Whether she would fight him or not, she still was a lady stuck in a dark forest with a man she didn't know.
"I don't really think you're in a position to ask questions, princess." He responded, still glowering at her. "This is my forest, remember?"
"It most certainly is not." Beth squeaked. "This land belongs to Hershel Greene."
"How do you know whose land this is? You related?"
"Of course not! I'm…" Beth thought quickly. It had been stupid to argue with him, but his arrogance and unjust hatred had roused an anger in her she hadn't known herself to possess, until that morning, she reminded herself.
She couldn't reveal her identity to this man. What if he told her father or Sheriff Walsh? Trying not to stammer over her words, Beth looked the man straight in the eyes and lied. "I was his daughter's servant."
"Was?" He said, eyebrows arching up.
"Until this morning. She is marrying and no longer needed me." Beth tried to stick as close to the truth as possible. The man's eyes narrowed and Beth could tell he didn't believe her.
"This estate owner dismissed you in the middle of the night?" He asked, incredulously.
"I was dismissed this afternoon and decided to rest for the evening here. I thought I would be safe.
"You're lying, but that's your business." He said, shrugging his shoulders. "And you're also wrong. This land doesn't belong to anyone. It's unowned."
"What makes this land yours then?" Beth said, refusing to make any more eye contact with the man. If he could be cold and arrogant, so could she. As she waited for the man's response to her quip, Beth planned her escape. As soon as the man turned his back, she planned to run. Out of the corner of her eye, Beth spotted a small slope that led back into the trees. If she could muster enough speed, and run fast enough, she could jump it and be back in the thicket before her robber could grab her.
As if he read her mind, the man's eyes fell to the same slope. "Don't run, girl," he said, in mock exasperation, "I'm faster than you and, quite frankly, after our first painful meeting here, I don't feel like any more exertion." He said, patting his ribs as if she had actually done damage to him. Beth's eyes widened as she realized the scoundrel was mocking her.
Steeling her determination, Beth stood herself up to her very tallest and locked eyes with the man. She would be intimidated no longer in her life, and certainly not by the likes of this criminal. The man raised in eyebrow, daring her to argue. Beth didn't argue; she ran.
Propelled forward by pride, Beth rocketed forward and instead of running up the slope, she jumped it in one enormous leap. Landing firmly on her feet, Beth didn't allow herself even a moment of victory as she heard the man's frustrating snicker of laughter followed by the sound of his boots crushing the leaves behind her. Beth kept running. She couldn't believe herself or her stamina. She had never spent so much time in the outdoors. Being a young girl in the world of the rich didn't lend its hand to such activities that would make her physically fit. It must have been sheer will that kept her legs strong and moving, the desire to not be defeated by the frustratingly handsome man behind her.
Handsome? Beth would have laughed had she had the opportunity, but the realization that she found the man physically attractive caused a stumble in her gait and she found her feet interlacing with one another. Awkwardly, Beth felt her left foot twist sideways and she fell to the forest floor. Pain snaked up her leg and she clutched the culprit.
A sarcastic huff behind her told her that the man had caught up to her. "I told you I'd catch you."
Perhaps it was the pain, but Beth could take no more. Between breaths, she spat out, "You...said you were...faster, not that you'd...catch me." Beth winced as she spoke through the pain and knew the effect would be lost. What she didn't expect though was for the man's features to suddenly soften. It was only for a moment, but when he looked down at her, she saw concern etched into his eyes.
"Let me help," he muttered, "before you do anymore damage." And the arrogance had returned.
"I don't need.." Beth started.
"Shut up," the man ordered, bending down to examine her injured ankle. Picking it up gingerly, he attempted to roll it and Beth cried out as pain burned up her leg. "It's a sprain. I guess you're going to be stuck with me a little while longer." He said, before scooping her up. "My name's Daryl, by the way, Daryl Dixon. And you are, my lady?" He smirked, in mock propriety.
"Beth," was all she offered as she let herself be carried.
"Got a last name? He asked.
"Yes, and you don't need to know it."
"Ain't helping your servant story acting like that, princess," He argued, huffing as he pulled her higher up his chest, "and you're heavier than you look."
"Quit calling me that wretched name; I'm not your princess," She said, irrationally hurt by his comment about her weight. Beth wanted to ignore him, but he wasn't making it extraordinarily easy. Daryl was getting too close to knowing too much about her situation.
"No doubts about that, sweetheart," He continued, not phased an ounce. "And, if you want to try your hand at looking poor, you might want to get those pretty hands of yours a little dirtier and bring that nose down out of the air."
"You think I'm pompous?" She asked, smiling despite herself, "Clearly, you have a serious lack of self-awareness."
"There's a difference between self-awareness and self-denial," Daryl said, suddenly serious. "You're sitting here-literally-trying to pretend you're not the spoiled noble brat we both know you are."
"You don't know anything about me." Beth whispered, suddenly unsure of herself. Did she portray herself as high and mighty? She had never thought she was like that. Yes, she hadn't worked hard for the things she had, but she didn't shove her good fortune in other people's faces. Did that make a difference though? Would it in the eyes of a clearly poor person such as the man carrying her?
"What about you?" Beth countered, trying not to feel anything for the man. "For all I know you could be kidnapping me right now. Why should I trust you?"
"You shouldn't." He muttered, and continued trekking with her in his arms. "But, I'm not going to hurt you. I could have done whatever I wanted to you back there when you fell, princess. I didn't."
"My hero," Beth said, rolling her eyes. She was annoyed with his continuous personality changes. "Where are we going?" She asked, after a moment. The forest hadn't changed since they began walking. All around them were massive amounts of yellowing greens, the sun barely breaking through the trees now. It would be light soon and even though Daryl had done nothing inappropriate so far, Beth was getting anxious and her foot was throbbing. She just wondered where they were headed and how soon they would get there.
Beth didn't need to wonder where they were headed for long. Daryl had not been carrying her for more than two miles before they had come to break in the woods. Ahead of them was a small camp. Five tents surrounded a fire pit. Men dressed much like Daryl were seen sitting by the fire or walking out of their individual tents, seemingly content. Beth was surprised when she saw a woman among them. She was currently hanging clothes on a line of rope hung between two parallel trees. Beth watched as one of the men marched towards her and yanked a wet shirt from her hand.
Beth cringed, certain the woman would be beaten. What else could be her fate among thieves? The man who had marched towards her hadn't appeared friendly. It was plain to see in his face that he had lived a hard life. He had a long forehead, creased in apparent anger, with eyes that set slightly back against his skull. His hair was gray and his face was scruffy, much like Daryl's.
Beth was shocked when instead of the beating she had expected for the woman, the man ripped the clothing from her hand and chucked it at another man who had just exited the nearest tent. Turning back to the woman, Beth saw her send him a look of amused annoyance before he brought her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly.
"Next time, don't judge so quickly, princess," A voice growled into her ear from above. Caught up in the interaction, Beth had forgotten all about Daryl. She looked up at him then, and saw that the cold hatred had returned in his eyes. He had noticed her apprehension for the woman and was clearly upset.
Beth stayed silent. After all, she had judged the man unfairly. Perhaps she was as entitled as he thought. Daryl looked at her sternly for just another moment before marching with her still wrapped in his arms into the camp.
The couple were still wrapped around each other, but parted quickly when they heard Daryl approaching. The woman smiled warmly, but her brow creased with worry when she saw Beth.
"Well, brother," The man with the long forehead began, wrapping an arm loosely over the woman's shoulder, "finally found some female companionship. What'd you have to do? Trip her?"
"Quiet, Merle," Daryl growled, hauling Beth over to the fire and carefully placing her on a log.
"That man is your brother?" Beth asked, surprised.
"Can't see the family resemblance, sweetheart?" The older man remarked, striding confidently up to them. "You look too clean to be a harlot. How much did he pay you, lovely?"
"Back off, Merle," Daryl said, turning and walking away from all of them towards a tent next to the fire. "Ain't like that. She got lost in the woods and fell. Her ankle's sprained is all..."
"Merle Dixon," the power in the woman's voice now standing beside the older brother shocked Beth. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself. I know I am!" She said, coming up to the two men. "Speaking so vulgarly to a woman." She swatted at him, before bending down to a now shaken Beth.
"I wouldn't exactly call her a woman, Carol." Merle said, rubbing the spot on his shoulder where Carol had slapped him. "I bet Daryl could take of that for you, sweetie." He said with a wink in Beth's direction. Beth's eyes widened and she visibly cringed. He noticed her reaction and Beth saw immediate remorse in his eyes.
"Oh, I didn't mean it, sweetheart...I mean...ma'am. No one will hurt you here. You got my word, girl." He said kneeling down to put himself on her level.
Beth shook and put her head down, shrinking further back on the wood. In the last few days, her life had taken such a drastic turn and now a stranger was apologizing to her in the woods for putting her innocence into question. Suddenly, the weight of it all came crashing down on her and she fought to keep the sobs from choking her.
The woman named Carol pushed the confused, panicking Merle behind her with an exasperated sigh. "Daryl," the woman said, anxiously calling to Daryl as he knelt down to enter the tent. "I think she's going over." Beth saw Daryl look behind him, exasperated, before genuine worry crashed into his face when his eyes met hers, just as her vision blurred and she lost consciousness.