Daryl pushed his way through the trees. Fog swirled and danced across the leaf strewn ground, parting at his light tread. He could hear the woods, alive and busy around him. He drew a breath inwards, stationary for a moment, enjoying the morning. Drops of dew fell on his bared shoulders as he once more moved through the forest. A burst of laughter caught his attention, and he turned his head towards the noise, ephemeral and otherworldly.
He moved closer, following the laughter, bending his body to avoid trees and lightly jumping from one bank of a stream to the next. Whenever he thought he was getting closer, the light titter sailed over the fog from an entirely different direction. Determined, he stopped to listen, only briefly, before tracking the noise. His roving legs lead him to a familiar clearing. Once again, it was filled with battered old campers. His heartbeat quickened and he paused to breathe in the smell of burning spices that rolled over him in waves, transporting him once again to another place in time. The gypsies had returned.
He melted back into the trees, and watched them setting up their tables and tents. Their wares and trinkets glinted in the rising sun. A small smile turned the corners of his mouth. Little children scampered around, running and playing, their laughter and games disturbing the birds. He remained silent, suspended in time, until a voice lilted and rose above the rest of the clamor. For a moment, not even his heart dared to beat, afraid that it would interrupt the spell that had been cast over him. He moved languidly through the trees, trying to get a better view.
Her voice echoed around the clearing, enveloping his senses and causing his heart to swell almost painfully with the sweetness of it. The sunlight glinted in her hair as her golden locks cascaded down her shoulders and back. Daryl was willing to swear that he was watching an angel. Her blue eyes visible even from a distance. She strummed along with her guitar, stamping her feet and smiling when an elderly coupled moved to dance and sway. Soon, several other couples joined the fray and he watched the twirling swaths of fabric in absolute wonder. Subconsciously, he had taken several steps forward, gravitating towards the scene in front of him. Before he realized it, he was already breaking through the line of campers. Several women looked at him, smiles on their faces and heads nodding in understanding as they returned to their stitching or washing. The small blonde siren continued to play and sing, undisturbed by the stranger now sitting on the ground beside an empty table.
Annette had seen the man enter the camp, drawn by the voice of her youngest daughter. She recognized him immediately. Giving him a moment to settle, she grabbed a small wooden chair and carried it close to his resting form. She chuckled lightly at the sight of a grown man, legs crisscrossed and elbows sitting on his knees. His fists balled up and pressing delicately into the skin under his chin. It gave him a very youthful appearance, despite the hard worn exterior. As she sat down, the slight groan of aged wood alerted him to her presence. She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.
"It's been a long time since I saw you last. You've grown into quite the striking man." Annette smiled. It was a mirror image of the girl that had drawn him into the camp.
"Is that Beth?" He looked at her for confirmation.
"Oh yes, she's changed a little bit from that girl that caught you peeking in windows." Annette winked at him, but Daryl simply nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak.
Somebody else had taken over the guitar and a young man had compelled her to dance. Daryl watched, a twinge of jealousy tugged at him as the boy placed his hand on her lower back. They twirled and giggled throughout the song, pausing only once for Beth to wrap her arms around a small boy. Daryl chuckled as she planted a light kiss on the child's cheek, prompting the boy to wipe it off quickly and look around as if to confirm whether or not his friends had noticed. Daryl turned back to Annette, question in his eyes.
"He belongs to Maggie. My eldest." She winked at Daryl, causing him to blush. She continued, "We are having a fair tomorrow night, interested in joining us?" He nodded his head in affirmation.
Annette remained silent as Daryl rose slowly and made to walk out of their camp. He turned his head once more and glanced at Beth. Two older women were chattering away as her spritely laugh punctuated each of their observations. After memorizing her visage and the look of her sun kissed skin in the morning light, he returned to the solitude of the woods. Annette smiled slyly at his retreating back.
"Beth walked to her mother, throwing her arms around her in a deep embrace.
"Who was that mamma?" Annette took her daughter's chin in her hands and looked her in the eye. She gently brushed her nose against her daughter's, causing Beth to laugh lightly.
"That is your husband." Beth paled, but did not look away.
Her mother had told her over fifteen years ago that she would meet her husband this year at the fair. Being a child, she dreamed about him every night, trying to imagine what he might look like. Now that she was older, she didn't much like the idea of having a preordained husband, wanting instead to marry for love when she was much older. She was the master of her own destiny after all and no amount of magic, or mischief in the case of her mother, would ever move her to change her mind. Yet she had to pause to appreciate the power of Tinker meddling. Her mother was the best meddler of all, often selling love potions to the lay folk and weaving elaborate tales of love and woe for the children.
She looked around and spotted her father. He lifted his gnarled, work worn hand briefly before turning away. If daddy had it his way, she would be marrying a Tinker boy and very soon. Beth could still remember the night that her mother had told him that their daughter would be marrying an outsider. It caused a fight that lasted for almost two years. She could smile at it now, but back then it had been an ordeal. Her mother was a stubborn woman, immoveable, even for the pleas and lamentations of her closest friends and family. She got her best qualities from her mother, that was absolutely certain. Smiling, she opened the door to their caravan and walked inside. She was determined to meet this 'husband' of hers, if only to prove her mother wrong.