AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!
111
When Carol married Ed Peletier, she'd done it the "right" way. At least, that's what she'd believed. She'd come to Ed Peletier as a blushing bride, her virginity safely intact, ready to be his and his alone for the rest of their lives. Her parents had paid for the wedding, and she'd married Ed with the show that her mother believed was necessary. There had been a flower girl, bridesmaids, a maid of honor, a best man, and groomsmen. There had been flowers in a rainbow of spring colors, and Carol's dress had been white—a true testament to her purity at the wedding. She'd worn the veil and let Ed lift it to reveal his bride to him—his soon-to-be possession.
It had been a picture-book wedding, really. In the years that followed it, the pictures were all that had remained to Carol of family and friends. Some had passed—like her parents—without seeing much of her in the years after her marriage. Others had simply faded away as Ed had isolated her more and more.
A perfect wedding did not promise a perfect marriage, and Carol knew that.
She was only interested in the perfect marriage, at this point in her life.
Lydia brought Carol the dress that she'd found in one of the closets. The moment their wagons had reached the plot of land they intended to call home, Lydia had taken off running in a mad search for a wedding dress. It was practically a frenzy for her. She wanted Carol to be beautiful when she married Daryl. That's what she'd said before she'd disappeared in a feverish search for what she thought was a perfect dress.
The dress that Lydia had found wasn't a wedding dress. It was a bit too large for Carol, and it was a cotton summer dress of the kind that would be comfortable on the shores of some ocean somewhere or picnicking by a lake. It wasn't white. It was pale blue, but Carol had no virginity to offer Daryl and, therefore, had little need for white to broadcast the status of her purity.
Excused from the initial chores of simply settling the animals for an evening—all major chores being saved for the next day when they would start to truly settle their home—Carol stood in the bathroom of the house that would soon belong to Alice and Melodye. She looked at herself in the mirror. She hadn't looked at herself for a while. The last time she'd seen herself in a mirror, and had really taken the time to look, she'd seen herself as pale and thin. For most of her marriage to Ed she'd tried to be thinner to please him. The last time she'd seen herself in the mirror, she'd been practically skeletal in places. He might have finally been satisfied.
Now, she felt like she was fuller, somehow, and her skin was slightly tanned from the time spent travelling via wagon.
Carol's silver hair hung over her shoulder in a heavy braid. On the counter beside her, there rested the silver scissors she'd found. She had cut her hair with better scissors, but she'd used worse, too. At least these weren't the kitchen shears she'd used the first time she'd cut her hair off—the time she'd sheared it practically to her scalp in angry defiance of Ed.
Carol's hair had been long when she'd married Ed. Some people said it was beautiful and, if she was being honest, Carol had been a little vain about her hair. She'd worn it just the way Ed had liked best, even though it would have looked better with her veil to wear it differently.
Ed had been furious when she'd practically scalped herself with kitchen sheers and drank way too much of his expensive scotch that he was "saving for a special occasion" to numb to the pain of the previous beating and the one she knew was coming. She had taken from him the control he had when he twisted her hair around his fingers. She had also taken from him one of the pieces of her that he liked the best.
He let her know that she was no longer beautiful. She never had been beautiful, really—which he said to hurt her, but she was too numb to feel it—but she'd removed any last shred of beauty she had.
She'd never felt beautiful again. At least—not until the day she'd noticed how Daryl's breath hitched when he looked at her, and how his eyes lingered longer than anyone else's did when they looked at her. She could easily dismiss it later. He hadn't called her beautiful. He hadn't even said he was attracted to her, but Carol had felt beautiful, at least for a moment.
Safe from the snatching hands of Walkers, and safe from the grabbing fingers of Ed, Carol had allowed her hair to grow. She'd let it grow dramatically, in the Kingdom, like something out of a fairytale—maybe just to prove to herself that she could.
She could decide what she wanted.
She'd decided to come to Wyoming. She'd decided to take a chance on this new life. She'd decided to come with Daryl, leaving everything and everyone behind, and she was happy with that decision.
She untwisted the braid and shook her hair loose. She ran her fingers through it, half-combing it out, and then she picked up the scissors.
She could decide what she wanted. She could decide what made her feel beautiful.
111
Daryl unbuttoned the top button of the white shirt when Lydia wasn't looking. It was the cleanest thing he'd owned within memory. It was also the stiffest thing he'd ever worn. He didn't know where she'd found it while rummaging through the houses, but he had a feeling that it had practically been preserved in starch.
At least he could swallow a little better without it squeezing against his throat.
The rest of his difficulty swallowing was simply because he was marrying Carol today—his best friend, the woman he had loved for what felt like forever. Tonight, when he closed his eyes, she would be his wife.
Daryl waited for Carol at the spot in the yard that Lydia—who was apparently their wedding planner—had declared perfect. When he finally saw her, picking her way carefully across the grass in bare feet that had to be cold, his pulse kicked up. She started smiling from a distance, and she wore that smile until she was standing in front of him. He reached his hand up and touched her face, and then he let his fingers trail through her short, curly hair.
"Do you mind it?" Carol asked.
Daryl's stomach tightened. She hadn't asked his permission to cut her hair, and she didn't need his permission to cut her hair, but some old demon was raising its head enough to make her ask now. Her insecurity was palpable.
"Just tell me it ain't because you're scared of me," Daryl said, recalling what Henry had said about her hair.
"It's just—new? Old…new?" Carol said. She furrowed her brow. It was clear she didn't know exactly why she'd done it other than she'd simply wanted to, and that was enough for Daryl.
"I like you just the way you are," Daryl said. "Old, new, and somethin' in between."
She smiled and looked relieved.
"So, you aren't mad?" She asked.
"Only thing that makes me kind of mad is it's cool out here, and the wind is blowing, and you got no shoes on and your hair's wet," Daryl said. "I don't want you catchin' cold."
"We'll just have to hurry things up," Carol said. "And you'll have to take me inside and warm me up."
She winked at Daryl, and it was him who felt warm. He caught her hand, held it, and turned to look over his shoulder at the rest of their group.
"We—ready to go?" Daryl asked.
As a practical Greek chorus, Melodye, Alice, Sadie, and Lydia moved closer. Beau, for his part, was some small distance away and lounging with Dog. He'd watch the wedding, but it was clear that he didn't find them all that fascinating. Muh stood by with idle curiosity.
"We're trying to remember the whole thing," Alice explained. "We've got the dearly beloved part, and that's about how far we can remember clearly. There's something about love and honor."
"Cherish," Melodye added. "And obey."
"No," Daryl said quicky. "None of that shit."
"No obeying?" Alice asked with a laugh.
"We both done enough of feeling like we had to obey somebody," Daryl said. "As much as I damn well wish I could've just told Carol what the hell to do in the past, I wouldn't want her feelin' like she's just got to obey me. We can come to a damn agreement, if you wanna add that in there somewhere."
"There are probably some other things," Melodye said. "Then there's the whole—for richer or poorer, for better or for worse…"
"In sickness and in health," Alice said. "But we can't remember if there's anything else that's supposed to go in there."
"Oh…foolishness," Muh muttered, walking over and practically working herself between Carol and Daryl and the others. "You want to be married?" She asked, directing the question to Daryl and then to Carol. They both nodded, and Daryl felt Carol squeeze his fingers. Muh hummed to herself. "You love this woman?" She asked, directing her words to Daryl. He laughed to himself, appreciating her directness.
"Yeah," he said. "More than I've ever loved anyone."
"Good," Muh said. "You love her enough to keep loving her when things are hard?"
"I already have," Daryl said.
"The past is the past," she said. "I'm asking you about the future."
"Forever," Daryl said. "No matter what."
"You love her enough to celebrate the joy of the good times with her?" Muh asked.
"There's not another soul I'd want to celebrate good times with," Daryl said.
"Are you given to changing your mind?" Muh asked.
"Hardly never," Daryl said. "And never when it comes to Carol."
"Fine," Muh said. She looked at Carol. "You love this man?"
Carol laughed quietly and her cheeks colored pink.
"With every bit of my heart," Carol said. "And more each day."
"You love him enough to keep loving him when things are hard?" Muh asked.
Carol held Daryl's eyes for a moment. Jesus. The things that they'd been through to be here today. She gave him a soft smile.
"Through anything," Carol confirmed.
"You love him enough to celebrate your joy and happiness to come?" Muh asked.
"I hope to have so much joy and happiness to celebrate with him," Carol said. Her expression made it clear that she truly meant that and, maybe, was a little excited by the very fact that Muh was suggesting such a thing might come to pass.
"Are you given to changing your mind?" Muh asked.
"Yes," Carol said, laughing quietly. "But—not about Daryl."
"And I don't mind her changin' her mind about anything else," Daryl offered, "for what it's worth."
"It's worth a great deal if it means harmony in your marriage and your home," Muh offered, raising her eyebrows at them. "These are the things that matter in a marriage. The rest? It's foolishness and show. I consider you married, if you wish to be."
She half-waved a hand at them, almost dismissively.
"Would you—perform a ceremony for us?" Daryl asked. "Adopting Lydia officially?"
Lydia, standing just to the side of Muh, bounced on her feet at the suggestion. She started to protest, but the old woman grabbed her hand and practically thrust it into Daryl's. Carol took the other hand more delicately.
"Do you love each other?" Muh asked. "You as this girl's parents?"
"We do," Carol and Daryl said, nearly in unison.
"And you as their daughter?"
Lydia grinned.
"Yeah," she said, nodding her head.
"Will you love each other through the times when loving is hard?" Muh asked.
"I think we've all got that covered," Daryl offered when Carol and Lydia both nodded.
"And will you share your joy and happiness?"
"I hope so," Carol said. It was Daryl's turn to nod with Lydia.
"And are you given to changing your mind?" Muh asked.
"Not where the hell it matters," Daryl offered, answering for all of them.
"Then you're a family," Muh said.
"Yay!" Alice said. There was a round of applause from the others who had watched the whole thing from close proximity. "Congratulations. And now—I present to everyone gathered here—the Dixons! All of them! You may kiss the bride and hug the daughter!"
Daryl laughed and his face burned warm, but he did move to kiss Carol as she moved to kiss him. For a long, lingering moment, they enjoyed the kiss. Daryl could never imagine being married to anyone else, and he was happy that he'd never have to imagine such a thing. Carol was his wife, and he was her husband—for now and forever—and nobody could change that now.
As the kiss broke, they both hugged Lydia between them. She was blushing, and clearly overwhelmed, but she hugged them back and accepted the kiss that Carol pressed to her forehead.
"I got parents," she said with a soft sound of awe to her tone. "And they got married!"
Daryl laughed at her surprised-sounding declaration, and Carol echoed his laughter.
"Carry your bride inside," Melodye said. "Over the threshold. We'll handle the chores out here, and Lydia will spend the night with us. We'll bring something to eat for you both later."
"And a little something special," Muh promised them with a wink and a laugh that cackled out merrily with the dry sound of someone who had smoked for many years, but wasn't the least bit mournful about the long-standing habit. She seemed purely, truly happy for them—or maybe she was simply happy with everything—and that happiness was contagious.
"You ready to go be married to me?" Daryl asked, catching Carol's hand.
Her whole face colored red, but she smiled at him.
"I thought you'd never ask," she said, a quick burst of laughter exploding out of her as she squeezed his fingers and tugged him toward the house they'd chosen for their own.