AN: I just want to preface that I will be using language from the show via dialogue. For example, in will use the term Romani during narration but the character's will use the term 'gypsy/gypsies' while talking in an effort to align with the show as much as possible.

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EVELYN HERON was navigating through the British countryside when she stumbled across a group of caravans. There was about four of them circled around a campfire, and a black horse was standing idly off to the side.

She instantly recognized the set up - it clearly belonged to a group of Romani's, but she was unsure which clan it could be. Evelyn had been careful to follow signs and pathways that would avoid a run-in with any group, and for good reason. She had to maintain a low profile.

She surveyed the scene. They must not have been gone long, as the fire was still smoldering and smoking. As she made her way into the encampment, her feet crunched against the frosted grass, the remaining winter still gripping the air around her.

It was chilly, but nothing she wasn't used to. She pulled the thick cloth of her jacket tighter against her body, as a gust of wind blew across her long blue skirt.

Evy told herself that she would not stay here long. She would just steal some supplies, maybe some food, and be on her way. She could not afford to be caught by anyone.

She walked up to the black mare, putting her hand out for its snout to sniff. She clicked her tongue as the beast nudged its nose in her hand, requesting a pet. She smiled to herself, feeling the rough strands of the mane between her fingers.

Evy loved horses - they were simple company, never complained, and were much smarter than they let on. Evelyn reached into her side bag and pulled out an apple and a knife, the cold steel of the handle piercing her skin. She cut off a slice and fed it to the horse.

She shifted her attention to an open caravan door next to the horse. She looked around once more, and when she deemed herself safe, she went inside.

The surroundings were surprisingly well kept. The cot was made up, sheets pulled tight and smooth. The table had a handful of pictures in old, metal frames wrought with rust - but one caught her eye. It was a portrait of a pretty blonde woman, whose hair was pulled back into a low bun. She picked up the silver frame, her thumb running across the blonde's face before setting it back down. She was definitely not Romani, which Evelyn found odd.

A small, pressed white lily sat next to the photo. It was intriguing - Evy hadn't seen flowers lately. The winter had been bitter, spring was late. She plucked it off the table, fingers rubbing the dry stem gently as she examined it.

With her free hand, her fingers snaked under the hem of her shirt, pulling the locket out from under the material. The chain links clinked together, sounding like soft wind chimes. Evy clicked it open, examining the small photograph of a boy with tufts of light hair and a soft smile. Her heart ached at the sight of her son, but she pressed the small lily into the other side of the locket.

"For you, my love," she whispered, her words echoing into the empty space.

She tuck the locket back under her shirt, the pendant falling between her collarbone and resting it is usual spot. She glanced around for something else she could swipe. Evy needed protection or something valuable that she could trade for some money. Her brow furrowed, there had to be something in here.

"Humph," Evelyn sighed. She was about to turn to leave when her eye caught something shiny stuffed in the corner of the bed. She paused, before investigating further, lifting up the pillow to find a hilt of a pistol shoved between the cot and the wall.

"Just what I was looking for," Evelyn murmured to herself, before pulling out the pistol and shoving it in her top of her boot. She had been after a weapon for some time now but could not manage to get her hands on one.

Just as shoved the pistol in her boot, she heard the familiar click of a gun, the snap causing Evy's blood to run cold. She hadn't heard anyone coming up, but she had been too pre-occupied in the caravan to pay much attention. A rookie mistake, she cursed silently.

"You might want to put that back," A husky voice came from behind.

Evelyn gulped, slowing turning around. Outside the doorway stood a man dressed in a flat cap and suit jacket, way too formal for anyone living this lifestyle. A cigarette hung from his mouth, the tip smoking lazily into the air. The man's a barrel was pointed directly at her.

But that's not what struck her the most. No, it was the man's bright blue, cold stare and the harsh shape of his features. It was a look she was accustomed to - one her father often gave.

Fear began to build at the pit of her stomach, but her face remained emotionless.

Evelyn slowly put her hands up, "I don't mean to cause any trouble," she replied.

"Seems ya do," The man said, taking a drag of his cigarette with his free hand, "Given you're in me caravan stealing me things."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Evy lied. She could talk her way out of this, like she always had with men.

A glint of amusement passed over the man's piercing eyes, but his face remained stoic. His gaze trailed over her body, slowly and methodically, leaving her feeling suddenly exposed.

"You a whore?" he asked after a moment.

"Fuck no," Evy replied, atonishment filling her tone.

"Gypsy then?" he pondered, though his question seemed more like a confirmation.

"Whose asking?"

The man chuckled a humorless laugh, "What's a gypsy woman like yourself doing out here, all alone?"

"Who says I'm alone?" Evy retorted, her eyes narrowing, as she put her hands on her hips.

"Well, my brothers have been out here for some time now. We know there's no clan for miles. That's why we're here."

An older woman appeared next to the mystery man just then. Her curly hair was piled high on top of her head and her eyes were rimmed with dark kohl, dressed in a sloppy mess of red velvet material and jewelry. She looked more like the women Evelyn was used to seeing out here. She raised a thin eyebrow in Evy's direction.

"What's going on Thomas?" She inquired, looking between Evelyn and the man.

"This girl was in here stealing me things, Pol. I saw her put my pistol in her boot," Thomas spoke, his eyes never leaving Evelyn's face and his gun remained locked on her, between the skin of her eyebrows.

Polly's eyebrows shot up in bemusement, a smile forming across her face. She turned to Evelyn, "Pray, what is your name?"

She debated whether or not to tell the truth. She knew she needed to lie low, but these people did not look like any clan she had ever seen before, and Evy knew pretty much every family that traveled around the countryside. They were dressed far too nicely and they had weapons that most people couldn't get their hands on.

It was clear they were well connected.

There is a man. He is distant...but willing.

Evy's eyes slid back to Thomas, heart racing against her ribs. Was this the man her mother had referred to? She figured that it was better to take a chance, than lie and get her head blown off.

"My name is Evelyn. My friends call me Evy."

Polly gave her a curious look but didn't say much more. She turned to Thomas, "Put the gun down and let the girl come out and explain herself," she said, walking away.

Thomas's jaw clenched at the demand. She could tell that he wasn't used to being told what to do, but he didn't object. Instead, he put his gun in the waistband of his trousers and stepped to the side, allowing room for Evy to pass.

She was becoming increasingly on edge, but she knew she had to tread lightly. She was outnumbered, and the only mode of defense was the pistol she had just stolen.

As she approached the doorway, Thomas held out his hand to help her down, avoiding eye contact entirely. The gesture threw her off, given that he had just pulled a gun on her seconds earlier.

"A gentleman at heart?" Evy asked, slightly entertained.

He remained quiet, only flicking his cigarette as she took his palm.

His hand felt rough against hers. He let go as soon as her boots touched the cold ground, grass crumbling beneath her weight.

She heard someone whistled to her right, and she whipped her head to see who it was. There was a tall man, dressed similarly to Thomas, with a dark mustache and hair cropped close to his skull. He had his hands shoved in his pockets as his eyes soaked in her body. "Ya didn't tell me ya had a girl stashed in there Tom," He laughed.

Thomas shot a glare at the man, but didn't respond.

"Arthur, why don't you fetch the girl a cup of tea?" Polly turned to the tall man who nodded at her and disappeared inside another van.

"Now," Polly said, moving her attention to Evy, "What are you doing out here by yourself? It's dangerous for a girl to be out here alone." Polly pulled out a long cigarette.

She crossed her arms, "I'm looking for something."

Thomas pulled out a lighter, igniting the stick for Polly. She inhaled deeply, "What exactly are you looking for?" Polly asked after a moment, smoke tumbling from her lips.

Just then, Arthur returned with a cup of tea. The cup was delicate, expensive even. It was much fancier than she expected.

Evy gladly took it, taking a sip of the warm liquid. She couldn't remember the last time she had tea. She shivered, the herbal notes pleasantly hitting her tongue,

"You lot don't look like gypsies, yet you're out here in a camp. What's that about?" she asked, turning the attention away from her.

Thomas and Polly glanced at one another as a small smirk formed on Polly's mouth, "We're also looking for something."

"Seem's we're at an impasse," Evelyn replied, "Why don't you tell me why you're out here, and maybe I can help you."

Thomas raised an eyebrow at Evelyn, "Who says we need help?"

"Well," she sighed, "You don't seem too experienced with the way we travel. For one, you left this unattended," She gestured to the encampment. "Also, I've been out here for weeks, and no one seemed to notice the signs I left," she lied.

Evy had been out for weeks, but she didn't leave any sign of where she'd been. However, she took the chance to assume that they had no navigational skills when it came to Romani travel.

"She has a point," Arthur said suddenly, "John and I have been at least 10 miles out and we haven't seen a sight of her."

Evy nodded, growing more confident with Arthur's sudden admittance. "I know the way around here. I can help you find what you're looking for - who you're looking for. I have connections with other families."

"What connections?" Thomas eyed her, clearly not taking the bait.

She thought for a moment. Should she reveal who she was? Would they even know? Evy needed to leverage her connection a bit more. "Do you know of Danior Heron?"

The mention of her father seemed to hit a nerve with the group. Anger flashed behind Arthur's eyes and she caught Thomas clenched his fists at his side, though his face remained unreadable. Polly glance back at Thomas, who gave a sharp nod.

"How do you know him?" Thomas asked cooley.

Based on their reactions, Evy thought it was best to keep the reality of their relationship private. "He has taken something very important from me," was all Evelyn gave.

"Lucky for you, we know where he is," Polly smiled mischievously.

Anxiety and happiness coarsed through Evy's body. They knew where her father was. That meant she was one step closer to getting back what was hers. She took a frantic step forward, "Tell me," She pleaded.

Thomas scoffed, putting his hand out to stop Evy from getting any closer to Polly. "Why would we do that?"

Evelyn was beginning to grow annoyed with all the questions. She didn't care anymore - they knew where her father was and she was going to find out.

"Just tell me where he is," she demanded, before reaching down into her boot and pulling out the stolen pistol. She cocked the trigger and pointed it directly at Polly, "Or I'll shoot."

Thomas and Arthur whipped out their guns and aiming them directly at Evy, yet again. Her breath quickened with anxiety, thoughts swirling about as she determined her next move. She had no intention of shooting the woman - she had never killed before, she just needed to know where her father was.

Polly chuckled, "You're outnumbered. Put the gun down, child."

"No," Evy panted, her voice raising. "Tell me where my father is!"

Polly's eyes grew wide at her sudden admittance and Evy cursed herself for being so foolish and letting it slip, but time was ticking down and she needed their information.

"Little Evy Heron..." Polly murmured, nodding to herself as if everything was finally clicking into place, "Why you were just a baby when we first met."

"What do you mean by that?" Evelyn growled, hand shaking softly. Her hand was beginning to sweat, the grip on the pistol growing loose.

"You have your mother's spirit all right," Polly replied, stepping forward. She was inches away from Evy's barrel. Her hand was the only indication of the emotions she felt pulsing through her veins.

"Pol..." Thomas warned. She gave him a reassuring look before snatching the pistol out of her hand in one swift movement. Evy glared at her.

Polly threw the pistol on the ground, far reach from Evelyn as Arthur scrambled to pick it up.

"Why don't we put our cocks away and discuss this like real women?"