OUTLIVE.
❝The dead were never the enemy.
It was the living. ❞
THE WALKING DEAD.
DARYL DIXON.
BOOK TWO of the LANCASTER SAGA.
[ SEASONS 4 - 6 ]
*****
*I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters. I simply write to write. Astrid, any addi...
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[ i. eating for two ]
june 18th, 2012
➸➸➸
ASTRID LANCASTER LAY IN silence. Body entwined with her hunter, her head was cradled on his bare chest, while his fingers weaved absentmindedly through her hair. His other arm held her securely, while his face burrowed itself in the sanctuary of her neck's curve.
Here, she felt safe, and the world outside ceased to matter. Astrid could have slept forever.
The cell block—usually bustling with the energy of constant comers and goers—lay cloaked in a serene quiet. The absence of voices and footsteps could only mean that everyone must have already made their way outside for the day, dutifully tending to their respective tasks and chores to keep the prison running on routine. It was necessary work. The prison had grown vastly, after all, transforming into something more significant since the arrival of the Woodbury survivors all that time ago. Hope had breathed new life into its decrepit walls.
With time, their ranks had swelled even more, once they had begun allowing in travelers found on the road. Though weeks had passed since the prison last accepted a new soul, more often than not, nowadays, Astrid pondered how much more life this haven could accommodate. Every nook and cranny had been cleared, every vacant cell and room claimed.
It had been hard-earned and long fought, yet the prison now stood cleansed of all the horrors that had once haunted its shadowy corridors. Defenses had been meticulously erected, sculpting former tombs into a semblance of a real home. One that Astrid could happily live and grow old in.
The arduous journey to this point of success had spanned over eleven long months, during which she and the others had survived, thrived, and waited. Their former enemy, the Governor, had also seemingly vanished from their lives within those eleven months, and Astrid's conviction had finally begun to whisper that he was truly no more.
Daryl's crackled sigh suddenly broke their cocoon. His warmth caressed the Lancaster woman. "I don't think you should go on the run today," He mumbled.
Astrid stiffened. Then she lifted her head. "Really?" She asked, annoyance lacing her words.
"Mhmm. Shouldn't be takin' risks," He said. "Not in your condition."
"I'm in no condition," Astrid muttered, defiantly lifting her chin higher. When Daryl's stern looks persisted, she shrugged her shoulders. "We don't even know."
"Which is why we need to be safe," He reasoned, reaching beneath their blankets to lay a gentle hand on her stomach. His fingers curled around the fabric of her shirt, resting protectively against her abdomen. "I'm jus' lookin' out for you."
Their eyes held each other in a fierce standoff, but it did not last long. In the end, Astrid conceded, her breath releasing in a defeated sigh. "Fine," She relented, cheeks puffed out. "I'll stay back. But you can't force me to stay in this bed all day. I hope you know that."
