AN: Here we are, another chapter here!
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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During most of the time that they danced, Carol's focus remained on keeping her feet out from underneath Daryl's. When he asked her to dance, Daryl had made it quite clearly that he neither knew how to dance nor had any natural dancing ability that he'd been hiding—he hadn't lied about either of those things, and neither of those things mattered to Carol.
After a while, they established something of a natural rhythm, even if it was only natural to them and only went with music to which only the two of them were privy. They swayed and rocked together in the sunshine. Around them, other people danced from time to time, they played games, and they shared laughter and conversation.
Carol couldn't have cared less if the music changed a thousand times or went away entirely. At that moment, it was all background noise to everything that was running through her mind.
"Merle said we could ask the man to do it," Daryl said, breaking the silence that they'd guarded for a good portion of the afternoon. Carol almost felt like she was being shaken out of a deep sleep when he spoke.
"What?" She asked.
"Were you asleep?" Daryl asked with a short burst of laughter. Carol caught it. Her voice had given away that she'd been very involved in her daydreams.
"Maybe," Carol said. "Almost. I was just—relaxed."
"I'm sorry I ruined it, then," Daryl said, continuing to sway with her. He'd tensed, though, at the thought of disturbing her comfort, and that made him lose their established rhythm for a moment. He stepped on her foot, but caught himself before he put his full weight down. "Sorry," he muttered.
"It's OK," Carol assured him. "It's all OK, really. Just—relax. What were you going to tell me?"
"Oh—Merle. He said that there's a man here that used to be a judge," Daryl said. "Old man that don't get out much, but he'd prob'ly marry us if we wanted him to. Also said that—if we wanted? We could prob'ly just get married, you know? Like—get Merle, and Andrea, and T…and that Michonne, if T wanted that. And we could just get married because there's really not no real chance that anybody's going to say something like it ain't legal. Nobody really gives a shit about that kinda thing no more."
"OK," Carol said.
"OK, what?" Daryl asked.
"OK," Carol said, stressing the word. "I mean—they both sound OK to me."
"But which one sounds better?" Daryl asked. "Which one you wanna do?"
"It doesn't matter to me," Carol said. "Which one do you want?"
"I don't want it to be like that," Daryl said. "I don't want you to say you want it just because I do. I saw enough of Ed to know his ass expected you to have zero damn opinions. I don't even wanna start our marriage like that—like you expect that of me."
Carol laughed to herself. She continued to sway with Daryl—following their own private music that nobody around them could hear—and she considered her words carefully.
"You're right about one thing," Carol said. Daryl hummed at her. "Ed didn't want to know my opinions about anything, and I was expected to keep them to myself."
"I don't wanna be like that," Daryl said.
"You didn't let me finish. The part where you're wrong is where you think that I expect that of you. Daryl—the reason that I said it doesn't matter to me is because it doesn't matter to me. I will marry you in front of the old man. I'll marry you with—just the two of us. Or all our friends and…family. I'll marry you in the middle of the goat pasture, Daryl, if that's what you want." Daryl snorted, and Carol laughed in response. "My point is that—I love you. And I want to marry you. But I don't care when, or how, or where that happens. As long as it happens."
The line that had formed between Daryl's brows relaxed.
"I just wanna be married to you. For real," he admitted. "And I want—everyone to know it."
Carol's heart fluttered in her chest. She tightened her hold on him.
"You tell me," Carol said. "How do you want to do it?"
"I don't know that man," Daryl said. "And—if there's no kinda law that opposes such things, I don't really care if he's there or not. So—if it wouldn't bother you, I would be just fine if it was just us. At our house—and you in your pink and white dress that you like. With Merle, Andrea, T, and…you know, Michonne, if T wants her there."
"We could do that," Carol said, offering him a nod and the reassuring smile that he seemed to need at that moment—some sign that he wasn't forcing her into something against her will, despite the fact that she'd already told him otherwise. "When?" She asked.
"I told you how," Daryl said. "And I told you where. Hell—I even told you who was gonna be there. I think it's only fair that you gotta be the one to say when."
Carol considered it. By now they'd almost stopped moving. They were barely swaying together. If anyone around them noticed or cared, nobody said anything. Everyone was engrossed in what they were doing. It was a day of celebration and, for the most part, everyone was free to celebrate in their own way.
"I—don't know whether I should give you time to change your mind," Carol said. "Or—tell you to let's hurry up and get married before you change your mind."
Daryl hummed at her.
"That just tells me we still got a lot to learn about each other. I guess—you oughta know, before you marry me, that I don't change my mind too much. Merle can tell you. My whole life I've been that way. Once I get my mind stuck on something, there's really not too much that can convince me to change it."
Carol smiled to herself.
"Do you have your mind stuck on me?" She asked. Her face burned warm at the mere suggestion, and her cheeks ached from the effort to hold back the smile that naturally wanted to take over.
Daryl nodded his head.
"I do," he said. Carol's smile renewed.
"Careful," she said, "or we'll practically be married right out here." Daryl laughed and nodded his head again. "We shouldn't do it today. Today's about the community, and it's about everyone enjoying themselves before it gets too cold and they're all locked inside most of the time. We shouldn't interrupt that. But—what about tomorrow?"
Daryl's cheeks reddened slightly.
"Tomorrow?" He asked.
"That OK?" Carol responded.
"It's—kinda quick," Daryl said.
"I thought you weren't going to change your mind."
"I'm not."
"Then does quick matter? I mean—look how all of this has happened, Daryl. We aren't exactly taking things slowly, are we?" Her stomach twisted when she saw the somewhat anguished look on his features. "What's wrong? Is it—me? Do you want—you do want to change your mind, don't you?"
"No," Daryl said quickly. "No…no…fuck, no. It's just—if that man ain't marryin' us, it means he won't be there to tell us what we gotta say."
"Our vows, you mean?"
Daryl nodded.
"And if he's not there to tell us what to say, then that means we gotta come up with it."
"Lots of people write their vows."
"But I ain't had no practice with that sorta thing, Carol," Daryl said. "I won't be good at it if I'm just tryin' to come up with somethin' that quick."
Carol smiled at him.
"What if I told you that—our vows don't matter at all?"
Daryl laughed to himself, and his forehead wrinkled.
"If they don't matter, then what's the point?"
"I don't mean that they don't matter that way," Carol said. "Of course, they matter, but they only matter as a promise. And, I can tell you from experience, that they only matter, then, if we both actually intend to keep that promise. Otherwise—they're just words. Daryl—my point is that whatever you say? It'll be perfect. Even if you just said—if you just said 'I promise to be married to you and to be the best husband I can be,' it would be perfect. Because all that matters is the promise we make to each other and…and whether or not we keep that promise."
Daryl's features relaxed again and he smiled.
"I like that," he said.
"Takes a lot of the pressure off, doesn't it?" Carol asked, laughing to herself. Daryl nodded.
"I might just—use your words," Daryl said. "That was pretty good. You just come up with that off the top of your head or you been holdin' onto it for a while?"
Carol smiled to herself. She could tell he was teasing, and she welcomed the lightness of the moment after the intermittent tension that had just occurred.
"I've been holding onto it for a while," she said. "Just in case I finally caught you in my snare and convinced you to ask me to marry you. And, of course, assuming that you would then be concerned about what to say when it came to your vows."
"Tricky ass woman," Daryl said. "I knew the whole damn time this was some kinda trap."
"You want me to let you out?" Carol asked.
"Even if you opened the damn door," Daryl offered, "I wouldn't walk out." He raised his eyebrows at her. "You know…I'm still getting the hang of all this, but…this feels like a real good time to kiss you."
Carol laughed to herself.
"I think it's perfect," she assured him.
He did kiss her. At first it was the hungry, almost savage kisses that Daryl seemed to favor. Carol indulged him. She didn't care who saw them and, clearly, neither did Daryl. Then, when he'd gotten his fill of whatever it was that he sought in the kisses, Daryl pulled back enough to allow for the softer, gentler kisses that Carol had worked on teaching him. He was a good student. He was learning, quite well, in fact.
When the kisses broke, Carol could feel her lips stinging and her face aching from the efforts put into kissing—energy well spent. Daryl, too, wore the evidence of the kisses on his face. Carol could see that his pupils were dilated, as she imagined hers must be, and his face was red.
"That was a good kiss," Carol said.
"Not too bad," Daryl agreed.
"It's probably—all the practice. They do say that practice makes perfect."
"Could still use some work," Daryl responded.
Carol smiled to herself and winked at him.
"Later," she promised. "I'm hungry and—that meat smells really good. Are you hungry, Daryl?"
Daryl laughed to himself.
"Kinda hungry for somethin' else," he said. "But it's probably rude to leave our own damn party, so I could go for some food."
Carol laughed at him. Mindful of the condition that he was dealing with, she let him set the pace as they slowly made their way toward the fires where skewers of meat and vegetables were being roasted and passed around for anyone who wanted something to eat.
Daryl stepped up and snagged two of the skewers, bringing them back to Carol at a decent enough distance from the fires that they weren't overheated.
Carol hummed in pleasure as she started nibbling at the roasted food on her skewer.
"You eat as much of it as you want," Daryl said quickly. "Don't think you don't get but the one."
Carol smiled to herself. No matter how long they'd been gone from Rick's regime of limiting everyone's intake except for Lori's, and no matter how long they'd been eating their fill in the Cedar Falls community, Daryl was still consistently reminding Carol that she could eat—and she could eat what she wanted.
"I know," she assured him. "You make sure I'm taken care of." Daryl beamed at the last addition, and Carol was glad that she made it. Though the community fed everyone, she felt like it wasn't a lie to say that Daryl provided for her. He did a great deal of the hunting for the community, and he was first to volunteer for the "dirty" jobs like slaughtering livestock. In addition, he would have argued with anyone there if he'd felt that she wasn't receiving her fair share.
While they were standing around eating, Alice—Carol's doctor—found them. She greeted them both warmly and with the same air of unexplained excitement that she always seemed to exude when she was talking to people.
"I don't want to interrupt the party," Alice said, "but I had a couple quick questions for you, Mama—and Daddy, you too— about your baby girl."
"You're not interrupting anything," Carol assured her. "Go ahead.
"OK—well, we know that baby girl is coming soon," Alice said. "But—we don't know when, exactly."
"Right," Carol agreed.
"But it wouldn't hurt to prepare a little," Alice said. "Now—I don't have much to offer in the way of birth plans. We're kind of operating on the good, old fashioned way or surgery in the case of emergency. Those are like our only two plans, really. And we don't want emergency if we can avoid it."
"I second that," Carol agreed.
"We have some space in our clinic cabin for—you know—like emergencies and overnight stays and stuff where we've got to have people right there," Alice said. "The rest of the time, you see me. You see all of us. We're all over the place checking on what we need to be checking on. I guess, my question for you is do you want me to bring over some of the mattress covers and things we've got to get your place ready or…where do you wanna have baby girl, Mama?"
Carol glanced at Daryl. He was chewing his food absentmindedly. He was staring, back and forth, between Carol and Alice. He looked intrigued and a little nervous at the same time. Carol could feel her own stomach knotting. She knew the baby was coming, and she was starting to settle into the idea that it wouldn't be that long before she came, but it was still a little nerve-wracking to actually think about delivering her daughter into the world.
"Home," Carol said, surprised at the shaky quality of her voice. "I'd like to—have her at home."
Alice smiled and reached a hand out, squeezing Carol's arm.
"Super!" She said. "I'll get someone up there tomorrow to cover your mattress—just so you have it ready if, you know, your water should break. And—sometime in the next week or so, I'd like to get you in for an exam and another scan. Maybe—if it's not too much stress for you—you might choose one of my colleagues and let them kind of be there with me? Just—so I can have a second opinion?"
Carol's stomach knotted a little more sincerely, but she nodded.
"You think she's coming—very soon?" Carol asked.
Alice smiled. Her eyes went a little owl-eyed.
"I am a firm believer in the fact that you would probably know that—like a thousand times more than me, Mama. But—I'd say…she won't wait too long," Alice said. "How are you feeling about it?"
Carol rubbed her belly with her hand. The baby clearly began to respond to Carol's anxiety.
"Nervous," Carol admitted.
"Don't be nervous," Alice said. "We'll handle it. You'll do great. You focus on when she's here, because that's the important part. The rest is just details, right?"
Carol knew that Alice was just trying to soothe her nerves. She knew that the doctor—taxed with doing everything she could to deliver the baby without incident—did not believe that the birth was "nothing." However, it did calm Carol a little that the woman was at least able to portray an air of extreme confidence in her abilities, whether or not she actually felt them.
"It kind of makes me feel like—I'm not ready at all. Like I haven't done anything I need to do to…get ready."
"Then it looks like you know what you need to do," Alice said. "Focus on getting ready. Then the anxiety will be better when everything's in order. Get everything how you like it. It'll make you feel better. But—today? Focus on eating some of this good food. I already saw the cakes that are coming out later, and believe me, baby girl is not gonna want to miss those!"
The doctor clapped Daryl on the shoulder affectionately before she walked off with little more than a quick wish that they try to relax and enjoy the rest of their day. She was clearly on some sort of mission, because she weaved through the crowd in search of someone particular.
"You nervous?" Daryl asked.
Carol nodded.
"A little," Carol said. "I don't—I don't feel like I have anything ready."
Daryl stared at her. He said nothing, and he gave no indication about what he was thinking. Then, he simply nodded his head.
"Don't worry about it," he said. "You'll have everything ready. I'll make sure of it. Just—like she said—just don't worry about it right now. Eat your food. It's good. You want—we'll start workin' out what we're gonna say tomorrow. Vows and all."
The quick reminder that, tomorrow, Carol and Daryl intended to get married in front of the people who were most important to them in the world that they now called home should have, perhaps, made Carol feel even more nervous. Instead, it had the exact opposite effect. It calmed her, almost instantly, to think that she'd go to bed, the following night, as Daryl's actual—not pretend—wife.
And the fact that such a thought—after everything she'd been through as Ed's wife—calmed her instead of making her more anxious, calmed her even more. She knew, at that moment and beyond any shadow of a doubt, that she was making the right decision.
"I'd like that," she assured him. "Very—very much." Daryl looked quite pleased by that, and Carol laughed to herself and accepted his nudging when he tapped her hand to remind her of her food. He liked to see her eat well, and he wasn't wrong—the food was delicious.