[ xvii. quite the ring to it ]

june 29th, 2012

➸➸➸

AT THE BREAK OF dawn, Astrid Lancaster was roused from her own fitful slumber by the tremors of another.

As consciousness reluctantly overtook her, she tilted her head downward, her tired vision slowly clearing to reveal the small figure of Carl Grimes writhing in a nightmare. Astrid's fingers gently brushed back the tousled strands of hair that clung to the boy's sweat-soaked forehead. A shiver coursed through her as her eyes gravitated to the evidence of the previous night's assault—a gash carved into Carl's cheek.

With a sigh, she leaned back and pulled a spare blanket closer to them. In the shaded confines of the car's interior, her silent reverie was punctuated only by the sporadic murmurs escaping Carl's troubled dreams.

The vehicle remained a solemn sanctuary for the pair. Michonne and Daryl had gone off in search of more water. Meanwhile, Rick, a mere ghost of his former self, occupied the space just outside their refuge, ensnared by his own crimson-stained hands that had wrought unspeakable horrors. Astrid understood his torment more than she would have liked to.

Suddenly, the door to the trunk of the vehicle abruptly fell open, jolting Astrid from her thoughts. Fear immediately gripped her heart, her instincts honed to shield Carl from this unexpected intrusion. Yet, as her eyes fell upon the familiar face that appeared, dread gave way to relief.

Daryl, battered and beaten, stood before Astrid. His cautious stare burned into her with an intensity that transcended mere words. For a single moment, their gaze held. Then, Daryl set his crossbow aside and clambered into the back of the car beside her. His presence enveloped the Lancaster woman, trapping her between him and Carl.

Daryl's arms wound tightly around her, and he pulled her close to his chest. Astrid, her fingers entwined with the leather of his jacket, felt the warmth of his breath against her cheek, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoing in her ear. As Astrid glanced upwards, her heart ached at the sight of Daryl's bruised features. His own struggles lay bare in the red lines carved into his weathered face—a blackened right eye, a split bottom lip, and a deep cut tearing through his left eyebrow.

Astrid's fingers inched towards his bruised cheek, but he intercepted her hand and instead guided it to his chest, where it rested against the fortress of his beating heart.

"I love you," Her hunter whispered softly.

At the profound weight of three simple words, Astrid was unexpectedly overwhelmed and was forced to take a moment to collect herself before speaking. The mere sound of his voice, after a seemingly so long without it, unleashed a flood of emotions that threatened to consume her. Finally, summoning the strength to respond, she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and squeezed his hand tightly. "I love you, too," She murmured back.

Daryl's lips brushed her temple, and he pulled her impossibly closer. Astrid adjusted her position, trying to find better comfort, but a wince of pain flickered across her face. Instinctively, her hand strayed to her side. Her hunter's hand instantly covered hers. "What happened?" He asked.

"I got shot," She replied bluntly. "Twice, actually. It happened back at the prison."

"Jesus," Daryl grunted. "I should have followed you when everything fell apart."

Astrid's response was swift. "Don't you for a second believe that me getting hurt was your fault, Daryl," She sternly said.

"You gettin' hurt last night was my fault."

"No, it wasn't."

"Yes, it was!" Daryl exclaimed with a sudden sharpness that caused Astrid to flinch, her concern shifting momentarily to Carl, ensuring that their exchange did not disturb the restless boy. Daryl caught her careful gaze and sighed, the tempest within him subsiding as he lowered his tone. "They tried to—That man—He . . ." Daryl's voice cracked, and his eyes, filled with both fury and devastation, struggled to find words. "He tried to hurt you. He tried to touch—"

"But he didn't," Astrid reminded. "He unbuckled my jeans. That's all he did. I killed him before anything else could happen."

The growl that emanated from Daryl's throat was filled with self-condemnation. "I should have been the one to kill him."

"I'm strong enough to take care of myself, Daryl," She insisted. Her green eyes remained locked on his, searching for any hint of vulnerability, but he veiled his emotions skillfully. "I know you can take care of me. I know you can kill people. But guess what? I can, too."

"I know," He responded in a taut voice.

"Then why are we arguing about this?" Astrid demanded. "We're both safe, alive, and together. Isn't that what matters?"

A contemplative silence descended upon them. Daryl gnawed on his bottom lip, lost in thought. At length, he offered a hesitant nod, his fingers brushing gently through Astrid's chestnut curls, an apology in his touch. "I'm sorry," He said. "It's just . . . seein' those people try to hurt you . . . and I was jus' forced to watch . . . I couldn't handle that." He drew a deep breath. "I was stupid. I didn't know what those men were."

"You weren't stupid. You couldn't have known what those people could do," She reassured. "You were alone. You were desperate. Given the circumstances, I would have made the same choices."

Daryl swallowed. "I wasn't alone to begin with," He revealed, and Astrid stared up at him with a furrowed brow, prompting him to continue. "I was with Beth," He explained. "We got out together. I was with her for a while."

Astrid's stomach churned. "Is she . . . is she dead?" Her voice, barely above a whisper, betrayed the anxiety that now coursed through her veins as she braced herself for his answer.

Daryl's gaze drifted downward to the blankets that covered them. Then he broke the tension with a broken breath. "She's just . . . gone," He admitted, the words hanging in the air like a mournful refrain. "After that, that's when those guys found me. I knew they were bad, but they had a code. It was simple. It was stupid. But it was somethin'. It was enough."

Astrid pressed a kiss onto his shoulder and nestled her head in the crook of his neck. "I'm sorry you had to go through that," She murmured.

Daryl, fidgeting as he picked at his thumbnail, continued, "They said they were lookin' for some duo, a man and a woman who had killed their friend," He described. "Last night, they said they'd spotted the two. I was hangin' back, thinkin' about leavin'. But I stayed. That's when I saw you. And Carl. And the others. All these people I knew and cared about, and I was goin' to watch them be killed."

Astrid shook her head gently. "But you didn't," She interjected. "You protected your family. You did what you had to do. None of this is on you, Daryl."

"After . . . " Daryl's grip on her hand tightened, his fingers interlocking with hers. "After last night," He drawled, "watchin' you fight like hell. For me, for them . . . for you . . ." He exhaled another long breath. "I saw that same fire in your eyes that I saw the very first day I met you. I thought . . . I thought it was goin' to be the last time I saw it. But I couldn't live without seein' that fire again. I couldn't stand to lose you again. I wasn't goin' to lose you. And I'm not."

Suddenly, her hunter reached inside his leather jacket and retrieved a small silver ring. Astrid's breath caught in her throat, and she sat up abruptly. "What the hell are you doing?" Her voice trembled.

Daryl softly chuckled, though it was tinged with nerves. "Bad timin', maybe?" He quipped, attempting to lighten the moment.

Astrid's throat constricted. "Just continue," She blurted, her heart pounding in anticipation of what would come next.

Daryl's smirk, illuminated by the gleaming ring in his hand, radiated as he looked upon it. Then, slowly, his blue eyes met hers. "Astrid, you're the only person I always want to be around," He began. "I . . . I love you in ways that I didn't think were possible. You're my best friend. You're my partner. I want you to be my wife."

Astrid's eyes brimmed with tears as her hunter continued to speak.

"And maybe I'm rushin' this," Daryl said. "And maybe it's jus' because I'm scared—scared that you mean more to me than anyone else in this world. But Astrid, I mean it when I say I can't do this without you. You are everythin' I think about, everythin' I need, and everythin' I could ever want. Some days, I still can't believe how lucky I got in you. I want to marry you. And . . . And we don't need to have a weddin'. That ain't us, anyway. But no matter what we do, I want you to know that I want this life for both of us." A stretched silence enveloped them, and Daryl pinched the bridge of his nose. "So . . . Jesus, this feels awkward," He admitted. "I never thought I'd be asking this, but . . ."

"Astrid, will you marry me?"

The Lancaster woman stared down at the ring, her mouth agape, rendering her speechless. Daryl's gentle laughter filled the space between them again as her own embarrassment seemed to take hold. Finally, she took a deep breath and nodded, answering the easiest question of her life. Her voice was a soft whisper. "Yes," She breathed. "I will marry you."

Without a moment's hesitation, Daryl's fingers wound through her hair, drawing her face toward his as their lips met in a passionate, soul-deep kiss. Astrid's arms encircled his neck. When they finally broke apart, their smiles for each other were as bright as the sun.

Astrid extended her left hand, her eyes locked on Daryl's as he delicately slid the ring onto her finger, a perfect fit that sparkled with exquisite beauty. Her gaze lowered to the ring, admiring its elegance. "It's beautiful," She cooed awe filled her. "It's friggin' huge, too. Where did you get this?"

Daryl's answer was as simple and unassuming as the man himself. "Off a walker," He stated, accompanied by a casual shrug of his shoulders.

Astrid buried her face in her hunter's shoulder again. "What a charmer," She playfully teased.

Just as Daryl opened his mouth to reply, a sudden yawn sounded from behind them, shattering the tender moment. A small figure, adorned with a sheriff's hat, emerged from the blankets. "What the hell's going on?" Carl asked groggily.

Astrid's quiet joy, held back until now, exploded freely. She reached forward, brushing the boy's unruly hair away from his forehead, comforting him. "Nothing, bud," She reassured him with a warm smile. "Go back to sleep." Carl, still in a daze, obeyed her, sinking back into his makeshift bed.

Turning her attention back to her hunter, Astrid ran her fingers through his hair absentmindedly. "Daryl Dixon . . . Astrid Dixon . . . Mister and Misses Dixon . . . It's got quite the ring to it, right?" She posed the question with a hint of amusement, her eyes gleaming.

Daryl chuckled. "Hell yeah, it does," He wholeheartedly agreed.

Astrid admired her engagement ring all over again. "I love you, you know that, right?" She asked.

Her hunter released a low, heartfelt groan, then shook his head. "God, after that speech," He huffed, his eyes briefly dropping to the ring, too, before rising to meet hers once more, a wry smirk dancing on his lips.

"You better."

~~~~~~~~~~

astrid and daryl are engaged!  and i love them with my whole ass heart.  but they really need a ship name.  any ideas?