Queen Anne's Lace

In the language of flowers, Queen Anne's Lace represents sanctuary and delicate femininity. It is so called because the flower resembles lace; the red flower in the center is thought to represent a blood droplet where Queen Anne, wife of James I of Great Britain, pricked herself with a needle when she was making the lace. It is also known as Wild Carrot and has an edible root that was used as an herbal contraceptive.

"So anythin' else new goin' on back there I need to know about?" Daryl asked as Carol walked pensively beside him.

She made a brief side to side head motion of negation and kept walking, looking ahead.

They had been outside the walls for her "rifle training" about an hour now, making their way to a tumble down wooden fence row against an embankment that more or less served as a shooting range for the community. About eight miles from the ASZ, Aaron had pointed it out the first time he and Daryl had met up while on their quest for Buttons the horse.

He didn't like how inward Carol's mood had turned after leaving the gates of their new community. He knew she was concerned over the tensions that merging their group into the already established one in Alexandria, that she was worried about Tara's injuries, especially in light of the trouble with Pete and hurt over the loss of Noah. He also thought that maybe she even felt guilty that they had started to find some small measure of happiness together when so many other things were uncertain and unsettled.

He knew her outward serenity masked a sea of emotion. What she had shared with him about the girls, how they had been lost had been heart breaking and infuriating. She'd done what had to be done, alone, and then had given herself over to Ty with a confession that very well could've ended her. He'd almost lost her; again. She seemed intent on spending every one of those nine lives...

Daryl stopped, surveying their surroundings, listening for any noise that would betray they'd been followed or had company, living or dead. Carol followed suit, her left hand on the brass knuckle hilt of her trench knife.

"You hear something?" she whispered.

Daryl held up a hand to silence her, on full alert, but slowly relaxed his stance, finally shaking his head no and shouldering his bow.

"Suppose since we're here we should shoot." Carol said, pulling the rifle strap over her head with ease, making him chuckle at her, remembering the little show she'd put on for Olivia and the others when they'd been made to check in their weapons.

Carol's mouth quirked up at the corner, not looking at him as she went forward to set up some of the bottles and cans piled up by the fence as targets.

Daryl came forward to help, but saw that she'd been distracted by the white topped tall wildflowers that were scattered all around the field like umbrellas for fairies. She ran her open hands over them, smiling a little at the sensation, the way they tickled her palms.

"Queen Anne's Lace." She said quietly, looking down at the tiny white petals, each miniature blossom part of the larger flower head with a blood red center.

Daryl reached down and pulled at the stem of one, but instead of just plucking the flower off at the stem he ripped the entire plant out from the ground, exposing the roots and then worked to wipe them free of the dark earth that clung to them.

Carol looked puzzled and a bit like she was ready to berate him for his actions.

"Wild carrot." Daryl said, and having cleaned the root to his satisfaction, stuck it in his mouth and crunched down on it. Noticing her frown he looked abashed. He pulled out his knife and with one slice trimmed the stem to about six inches and then sheathed his knife.

"S'good." He mumbled around his mouthful of carrot root. "Pretty too." He added shyly and held the flower out to her as an offering.

Carol had a sudden vision of a flower crown like the ones she used to make from the frothy blooms for Sophia, a lacy diadem for innocent sunny summer days; remembering the other white flower he had given her once, a symbol of hope turned to ashes; then the last words she'd said to Lizzy...

Daryl saw her eyes fill with tears as she looked at the flower and then reached out a shaking hand to take it from him. He stepped in, instead lifting the bloom and gently pushing it and a curl of hair behind her ear, letting his hand cup her cheek, his thumb catching the tear that spilled over.

Carol felt lightheaded with relief.

She didn't have to do this alone any more.

Last night she had told Daryl everything and he had stayed. He had stayed and he had shared his own darkness with her. They had given each other a safe place, a sanctuary where nothing was held back, where understanding was possible, where they didn't have to wear any masks or costumes and hide from anyone, even themselves.

"I'm worried." Carol said, putting her arms around him, feeling his warmth seep into her, his scent, leather and smoke and sweat sink into her, his solidity comforting and familiar.

"Just means you're alive." Daryl said; that he too was worried was something he would never admit to another living soul; especially that what he was most afraid of was losing her again. He held her, remembering how he'd run, clung, spun her, lifted her after Terminus; how he'd held her last night, watched her face as she unfolded, petal like, to him as he made love to her, how she'd sobbed, broken and spent after she'd finally explained Lizzy's madness and her despair; how she'd soothed and held him as he told her how he'd gotten his scars, trading horror stories.

They'd made love again at dawn, exhausted, slow, half awake, staring into each other's eyes, barely moving, side by side. He wanted to live inside her, soft breasts and belly pressed against him, small strong calloused hands gripping his hair, neck, shoulders, arms, back, urging him on, soft strong thighs lifted around his hips, the slip squelch of his cock sliding up and into her wet warm waiting depths, his hands grasping, gripping her hips, moving her on him, sighs and cries muted by kisses lest they wake their house mates.

He'd never felt more alive than in those hours, safe in her arms.

Daryl lifted her chin, placing a chaste kiss on her soft pink lips, still unused to the liberty to do so, easing away from her, letting his hand fall away.

"Don't..." Carol murmured, gripping the back of his vest to keep him close and lifting her face, silently asking for another.

Daryl leaned back to her in fits and starts, wary of showing her how much he wanted her again, knowing both of their emotions were still so close to the surface; knowing that this between them was still new, fragile. This time when he touched his lips to hers she responded by immediately kissing him back, her mouth moving over his with potent desire, taking control of the kiss, deepening it, opening to him.

Daryl whimpered out a noise of surrender, tasting, drawing her tongue into his mouth. He felt her hand pulling at the bottom of his vest, slipping under his shirt to find the heated skin at his belt line and dipping below, under his jeans to squeeze the fine firm flesh of his ass.

"Hey!" he hooted in surprise, ripping his mouth from hers, his eyes wide and dick snapping to attention.

Carol looked up at him innocently, all the while sliding her hands forward while still inside his loose waistband, making him start to sweat.

The hollow growl and stumbling shuffle of a walker snapping its way through the underbrush behind them threw a bucket of cold water on them both, belatedly realizing that out in the open like this wasn't the best place to start something.

Pulling apart they both raised their weapons towards the sound of the approaching dead one. When it came into sight Daryl was relived it was an adult, male, almost unrecognizable in its heavy state of decay. He motioned for Carol to take it out and she did it with quick precision, clean, right through the eye socket.

They came closer to check it out, Daryl taking the time to bend close and examine its head carefully while Carol frowned at him.

"Think there's more?" Carol asked, looking all around for any signs of more movement. The things like to congregate, creating the deadly herds.

"Could be. Let's head back to the highway. Might take out a few more on the way." Daryl shrugged, pulling his bow over his shoulder by the strap.

Carol smiled at him, how handsome he looked with his cheeks still a bit flushed and lips puffy. She shouldered her weapon as well, but chose the opposite arm, deliberately leaving the hand next to him free to see what he'd do.

"Things are on edge inside." Carol told him as they walked. "Rick's tight-roping a razor..." That Michonne had to break up the fight between their erstwhile leader and Pete had been troubling. Carol hadn't missed the way the good citizens of Alexandria were giving the constable a wide berth after Deanna had put him on "leave" while she investigated. Questions about how he had acquired his gun were sure to follow once things had settled down. She thought she could count on Sam to stay quiet, but it was still quite possible that it would be Rick and her and not Pete who would be banished.

"They try to kick anybody...any of us... out...if we have to take the place, we will." Daryl assured her, taking her hand in his as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Yet there was a note of unease in his voice. He'd grown to like Aaron and Eric especially and he also wanted Carl and Jude to have a sanctuary, a chance at a life. Leaving wasn't something he wanted to have to consider.

"Or we could just all leave." Carol countered, looking up at his face. It was a daunting prospect—they both knew how hard life on the road would be.

"Ain't givin' up those walls." Daryl grumbled in dissent, shaking his head.

"You and Aaron found something out there, didn't you?" Carol asked, "You were looking for something on that walker just now."

Daryl sighed and pulled out his knife, walking over to the closest tree and carving a "W" into the bark.

"Like the one at the little house?" Carol asked, "Where we met up before?"

"'Chonne told me it was on walkers in Richmond too—someone chopped 'em up, legs, arms—had a load of what was left in a truck. Aaron n' me found more like that and a woman..." the Archer winced and grimaced, the tortured blonde they'd found, stripped and left tied to a tree as a living feast for walkers still sickened him.

"Daryl?" Carol asked, not really sure she wanted to know.

"Worst sort. Like Gareth n' them maybe." Daryl said. "Still several day's drive from here, but getting closer. Aaron's meeting with Deanna n' Maggie today to explain what we seen. Get some strategizin' done."

"These people are nowhere near ready for something like that!" Carol said, her voice rising, pulling her hand from his to gesture emphatically. "We need every one of our people on alert—armed and ready. My God—if there's an attack? A real fucking attack on that place, but from people, not walkers?"

Daryl watched as she ran her hands back through her hair in agitation, inadvertently dislodging the flower he'd given her which floated to the ground.

"We have to get back—talk to Deanna—explain to her what has to be done." Carol told him, and he could see her wheels turning, the plans being made. This was a Carol who wouldn't take no for an answer.

"The feral loner and the cookie lady?" Daryl asked skeptically, reminding her of their best disguises, his intransigence and her invisibility.

"I think you blew that when you decided to make out with me on Main Street this morning." Carol said dryly. Anyone seeing that display would have some serious questions about the way they both had been presenting themselves up to now.

The delicate pattern of half-truths Carol had been weaving as her camouflage was unraveling, and none too soon as far as Daryl was concerned.

Daryl leaned down and picked up the lacy bloom she'd lost, twirling it in his hand.

"Let's head back." Daryl nodded, agreeing, handing her the flower and then taking her hand in his again, "Talk to Deanna."

Caryl: Daryl is the root; Carol is the flower, the plant needs both to survive.

Sources of info on Queen Anne's Lace are the websites: lacefairy; teleflora; and Vancouver florist

Thanks for reading! Thanks to all who have favorited & are following this one! And especially to those who take the time to review-I appreciate everyone & will get caught up responding after the Finale this week!

DD1