Scars & Shadows(Daryl x Octavia)

Chpt 3: The Edge of Trust

The Video above is not mine, it is from Liza Belyak on YouTube!!

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Chapter 3: The Edge of Trust

The sun was rising higher, casting harsh shadows over the forest as Daryl and Octavia followed the faint trail, eyes sharp for any sign of danger. The silence between them was comfortable, filled with the subtle sounds of nature. For Daryl, it was routine—staying on alert, reading the land, feeling the faint prickling on his skin when something was wrong.

But Octavia was different. She thrived in chaos, used to fighting her way through tight spaces and facing enemies head-on. Yet, being out in the open with nothing but trees and silence made her skin crawl. The unknown was harder to face than any enemy.

They moved through a thick brush, and Daryl held up a hand, stopping her in her tracks. Octavia glanced at him, her brows knitting together.

"What is it?" she whispered, instinctively lowering her stance.

Daryl tilted his head, his hand gripping his crossbow as he scanned their surroundings. "Smell that?"

Octavia took a quiet sniff of the air, catching a faint whiff of something rotten, stale—almost human, but decayed. Her jaw tightened as she realized it could only mean one thing.

"Walkers," she murmured, her fingers itching to draw her sword.

Daryl gave a silent nod, signaling for her to stay low as he moved forward. They crept through the undergrowth, the scent growing stronger with each step. The forest was eerily quiet, as if even the birds knew something wasn't right.

Finally, they reached a small clearing. A group of walkers staggered about, at least a dozen of them. Their flesh hung off in chunks, their skin pale and shredded. Daryl's eyes narrowed as he scanned their movements, counting silently, calculating their distance.

"We can take 'em," Octavia whispered, drawing her sword with a quiet hiss of metal against leather.

Daryl shook his head. "We don't know what's nearby. Noise'll bring more."

She huffed but nodded, reluctantly sliding her sword back. She'd spent most of her life fighting without thought for stealth, but she trusted his experience. Instead, she followed his lead as he pulled his knife, motioning for her to handle the walkers closest to them in silence.

They moved in sync, Daryl's practiced movements guiding her. He took down two walkers quickly, knife piercing skulls with precision, his hand steady as he grabbed one by the neck, muffling any noise. Octavia watched him for a second, impressed, then joined in, taking her own walker by the shoulder and driving her blade through its temple. Her heart raced, the thrill of survival filling her veins, but she stayed focused, following Daryl's lead without question.

After several silent kills, they were down to the last two walkers. Octavia moved in on one, her eyes narrowing as she brought her sword down swiftly. Daryl, on the other hand, hesitated—his knife stuck for a split second in the bone of a walker's skull.

The second walker noticed him and lurched forward, its mouth open and snarling. Octavia acted on instinct, swinging her sword in a wide arc that sliced through the walker's neck before it could get any closer to Daryl. Blood sprayed, and the walker crumpled to the ground at his feet.

Daryl looked at her, his blue eyes holding a flicker of something that wasn't quite gratitude, but close. "Thanks."

She shrugged, wiping her blade on her pants. "I figure we're even now."

They exchanged a nod, but before they could move on, a faint rustle came from the far end of the clearing. Both of them froze, tense and ready for another fight. Daryl held up his hand again, this time as a warning, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the shadows beyond.

Emerging from the underbrush, a small group of armed men stepped into view. They looked rough—worn clothing, faces streaked with dirt, each carrying a weapon that looked like it had seen better days. Raiders. They'd crossed paths with groups like this before, people willing to take anything from anyone just to survive.

The lead man sneered, sizing them up. "Well, what do we have here? A little morning stroll?"

Daryl's grip on his crossbow tightened, his face hardening. "Ain't lookin' for trouble."

The man laughed, his eyes flicking between Daryl and Octavia. "You're in the wrong place, then. 'Cause trouble's lookin' for you."

Daryl's gaze flickered to Octavia, a silent message passing between them. She subtly adjusted her stance, her hand inching toward her sword. They didn't need words to know they'd fight their way out if it came to that.

"Just move along," Octavia said, her tone calm but cold. "You don't want to mess with us."

The man raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he took a step forward. "Oh, I think we do. That pretty little sword of yours could fetch a nice price, don't you think?"

Without warning, Daryl raised his crossbow, aiming it directly at the man's chest. "One more step, and I'll bury this in your heart."

The man stopped, eyes narrowing as he assessed Daryl's steady aim. For a moment, silence stretched between them, tension thickening the air.

"Think he's bluffing?" one of the raiders muttered, glancing at his leader.

Daryl's face remained impassive. "Try me."

The leader hesitated, his smirk faltering slightly as he saw the deadly resolve in Daryl's eyes. He must've realized that, for all their rough appearances, these two weren't just survivors—they were fighters.

After a long pause, the man took a step back, motioning for his men to do the same. "Fine. But next time, we won't be so nice."

They backed away, disappearing into the trees with a few lingering glances over their shoulders. Octavia watched them go, tension melting from her shoulders once they were out of sight.

"Thanks," she said, giving Daryl a small nod of respect. "You really know how to handle yourself."

Daryl shrugged, lowering his crossbow as he checked to make sure the raiders were truly gone. "Just did what had to be done."

They stood there in the aftermath, the adrenaline from the encounter still buzzing beneath their skin. Octavia glanced at Daryl, a slight smile tugging at her lips.

"You know," she said, breaking the silence, "I'm starting to think there's more to you than just a crossbow and a scowl."

Daryl grunted, his mouth quirking in a half-smile. "Same could be said for you."

They shared a rare, unguarded look, a hint of amusement and understanding passing between them. For the first time since they'd met, there was an openness, a flicker of trust. Neither of them knew how long it would last, but for now, it was enough.