hiraeth | c.g. |

i

It was a chilly afternoon, the trees crisp with frost as the temperatures dwindled slightly. The woods were bare of any life, except for the two figures seated on a fallen log by the edge of the river. While it was cold, both of them were clad in layers of warm clothing to fight off the chill, seemingly paying no mind to the weather.

One of the figures was a male, his long hair shielding his neck from the nipping wind. He was rough looking to say the least, the exposed skin of his face and hands dotted with white scars. However, as harsh as he looked, his eyes were soft as he looked to the young woman that sat beside him. She was dark, not only with her deeper colored skin contrasting against his paler skin, but the way she held herself told of darkness she carried that was heavier than the layers of clothing she wore. Her hair was longer, past her shoulder blades with braids woven into them. Her own skin was dotted with scars, more visible under the bright sun. Both their cheeks were slightly red with cold, but they were warmed by the burning cigarettes in between their fingers.

"You know it ain't your fault, kid."

The man's voice was low, worry filling it as he saw the young woman's far-off look. Her eyes were slightly red from the cold, but they held more sadness than he had ever seen.

"You're wrong," was all she could say. Her voice was low, filled with emotion as she tried to fight off her tears as she remembered what she had lost. Instead, she allowed her focus to fall upon the piece between her fingers, glowing red. She had only let it touch her lips once, coughing at the smoke as it filled her lungs. She had yet to raise it again, rather allowing it to burn, the ash being carried off by the biting wind as it continued to do so.

"Jo."

The nickname was foreign on everyone's lips except for the man beside her. Her mentor may have called her Joanie, a nickname that seemed to belong to a girl much younger than herself, but he was different. He called her Jo. Short, simple, straight to the point. That was perfect to describe the man beside her.

Daryl Dixon, she realized, was the one member of the family she had found in Alexandria that she felt she had left in her life . The others were dead or missing or pushed away by her, but he never wavered. Instead, every time she tried to pull away from him, trying to get used to the idea of losing him just as she had lost everyone, he would scoff. He would tell her to cut the bullshit and to get used to him because he would never leave her. Instead, he stayed right beside her. She would never be able to repay him for that.

Her eyes flickered to the cigarette in his hand as, unlike her, he allowed the smoke to fill his lungs. The young woman then turned away to look back to the river that ran before them, watching the small pieces of ice that had formed be destroyed by the rushing water. "It is my fault. I knew that I shouldn't have gone, but I did. I should've fought harder but I didn't— I couldn't." She shook her head. "Maybe I shouldn't have fought at all."

With his cigarette burning out, Daryl took the one in between the girl's fingers as he knew she wouldn't use it again. "You know you wouldn't be able to just not fight. You're a fighter, same reason you went with me and Michonne in the first place." At that, Clary shook her head. "But I shouldn't have. I knew what could happen and I— I let it happen. And now?" Clary shook her head. "Now, I can never tell Carl." The man let out a noise that almost sounded like a scoff. "You can, you're just too afraid to."

Clary's jaw clenched at his words, not out of anger but out of knowing he was right. A small nod shook her head. "You're right, I'm so damn afraid. Carl is still mourning for his father and I— I'm not going to add to his grief. I can't." Daryl's gaze softened as he looked at the girl, her eyes still resting on the river as if it could reveal to her what she should do. Unsurprisingly, the water that flowed held no guidance within its soft waves.

"Jo, when you told that kid that you were done with him— I think he's mourning you now. He lost one of the most important people in his life—" Clary shook her head. "But I'm alive. He knows I'm alive and he can assume whatever he wants to figure out why I had to end it. But I did it to protect him. I did it because I love him."  The young woman sighed. "I have to believe that. I have to believe that I'm doing the right thing."

The both of them looked to the river, thinking of the man who had been consumed by the flowing water just a couple of months ago. His body still had yet to be found, but Clary hoped it wouldn't be. A part of her hoped that Rick Grimes was alive so that there was no body to be found. That, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day they'd find him. And, on that day, Carl and Judith would get their father back. Michonne would have the love of her life and the father of her soon-to-be-born child back. Carl would forget ever being hurt by her because it wouldn't matter when he had his dad back.

However, that also meant Clary would be alone. Of course, she had her people and Solaris along with Maggie, Hershel, Enid and Daryl. But the Rhee family was separated from Clary as they resided in Hilltop and Daryl traveled with the wind, the girl grateful for any moment she could catch him and hold him close. Truthfully, she couldn't help but feel so alone, and she knew it was her own doing.

Clary was surrounded by her people, and she cared for them, but she also knew that they cared for her because she led them. They trusted her to protect them, not blindly caring for her like Glenn and Maggie had, wanting nothing more than for her to be safe. She knew that that was the Commander's job, to keep her people safe, but getting a taste of how normal life could be and how filled with love? It had started to soften her.

"To be Commander is to be alone," Clary declared after a few moments of thought, trying to stop herself from believing she was weak. "That's what Leon told me all those years ago. That's what I should have followed in the first place."

With that, the young woman arose from her seated position and began to walk towards Solaris, a place that had to become home. It just had to.