"One way or another, we all fight for what we believe in. Doesn't that give us some common ground?" Tom Clancy
The next morning, Ellen sat cross legged in the center of the gazebo, gazing out as the first traces of light started seeping over the Kingdom. Pastel pinks and blues painted the sky, casting a faint glow over the place as its residents began to rise and greet the new day.
Ellen inhaled slowly and calmly, before exhaling.
After a few minutes, she scowled and opened her eyes again, unable to focus, unable to find peace and solid ground.
She wanted revenge, and the feeling consumed her. Everything else was secondary.
The sound of footsteps climbing the gazebo's steps brought Ellen back to reality, and she coolly watched Morgan approach.
"If your feet ain't right, nothing's right," the man said, before joining her, sitting down across from her.
"Don't think it's my feet that I'm worried about," Ellen muttered.
"And if your mind ain't right, then your feet won't be right."
"Does your magic staff stop bullets too?"
Morgan looked back at the woman. "We can end this peacefully. Talk things through--"
"You can sing Kumbaya all you want," Ellen growled. "Negan doesn't give a shit about your feelings, and neither do I."
"Patience. Peace. Empathy. That's what I can teach you, if you're willing to learn."
Ellen inhaled sharply, gritting her teeth. "Pacifism when the situation calls us to action, to be brave? That's one of the most violent stances you can take, whether you believe it or not."
"Nah. Violence only causes more violence. You have a choice. We all do."
"And we can choose to dance around the problem and pretend it doesn't exist. But I'd rather cut the head off the snake than let it bite any more of the villagers."
Ellen stood to her feet and stalked past the man. "Maybe I'll come back when I'm feeling more zen," she hissed.
She stormed down the streets of the Kingdom as though a raincloud were hovering over her. These people could plant all the beans they wanted. War was inevitable.
It would come swiftly, and violently, as it always does. And despite everyone's best efforts to maintain a peaceful, neutral stance, evil wouldn't relent just because the people wanted it to.
Ellen slowed when she noticed Daryl heading towards the gates and beelined in his direction.
Her eyes drifted to the man's toned biceps and the crossbow draped over his shoulders, and she basked in his confident presence for a moment. Something about the way he carried himself seemed to sooth her troubled mind, even if it was just a temporary fix.
Like a drug, she thought coyly.
"Why dontcha take a picture," Daryl called to her after a minute, noticing her gawking. A teasing smirk lit up his face.
"Be a gentleman. Send nudes," Ellen called back.
"God, I miss sexting," she said with an inappropriate grin as she approached the man.
"You're ridiculous," Daryl said, shaking his head.
Ellen laughed. "I'm just honest."
"My big brother woulda loved you. You'd be two fuckin peas in a pod."
YOU ARE READING
Outcast (A TWD Fanfiction)
Horror(DarylxOCxNegan) A medium prior to the apocalypse, aggressive outsider Eleanor has always had an abnormal connection with the dead. But in this new world, Ellen is forced to rely on her survival skills and nerve to withstand another monster entirely...
