Norman Reedus Imagines

Daryl meets Buttons-- PART 3

A week passed before anything else changed between Kieran and Daryl.

They continued their morning walks together, Kieran always in her horse form to keep up appearances. But they would talk rather than making the rounds in silence. A few members of the community started giving Daryl strange looks. After all, to them he appeared to be having half a conversation. And with a horse no less. But he didn't really care what they thought anyway. After they finished Kieran would change into her human form and spend the day following Daryl around. He kept trying to get her to talk with the others, but she steadfastly refused to associate with them.

Daryl was sitting on a hay bale in her stall while she dressed when he finally offered any kind of information on what he knew.

"Ma dad was a drunk asshole." He said out of the blue.
"He used ta hit my mom. Until she died anyway. Then he took ta beatin' on me an Merle."
"How did she die?" Kieran asked, sitting down next to him.
"Accident. House fire." He replied looking at his hands.
"Least that's what we were told. I never really believed it was an accident."
"What was her name?" Kieran asked. It had been bothering her she couldn't remember.
"Aoibheann." He replied.

Kieran didn't want to ask the next question. But learning Daryl's mother was Aoibheann Dixon was making it harder to rule out the possibility of who his father was. Kieran had vague memories of Aoibheann from her childhood. She had been friends with Kieran's mother before she was hand fasted to Tynan. Her memories were that of woman who so perfectly embodied her name sake, bringing radiance wherever she went. Kieran was certain Tynan did his very best to put that light out.

She swallowed thickly before asking.
"What was your father's name?"
"Tynan." He said, looking up to face her. "Why do ya care what their names were?"
"Daryl, I knew your parents." Kieran said, pain and sorrow filling her words.

Daryl stood up, shaking his head. It was all too much to process. He didn't know if he should be angry with her for with holding this information or happy she was trying to help him. He walked out of the stable wordless and headed straight for the gates. He needed to be alone, completely alone. So he could sort out his thoughts.

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Once out in the woods Daryl's thoughts drifted to his childhood.

A memory of his mother when he was small. She was tucking him into bed and telling him stories about the fairy. The one he remembered was the story of a terrible dark fae who hated himself so much he wanted to destroy all of faekind. Daryl couldn't remember the dark fae's name, but he knew the story by heart. It was the one his mother told most often.

This particular fae had been abandoned by his parents at a very young age and left to fend for himself. Although he had been born in the fae realm, he was abandoned in the human world. Forced to grow up among people who didn't understand what he was. The constant rejection of human families coupled with the estrangement from his kind caused darkness to flourish in his heart. By the time he was found and taken to the fae realm it was too late, although they tried to save him.

He was married to a beautiful fae who was the daughter of one of the Kings court. It was thought her light and radiance could heal the darkness within him, but the counter only served to strengthen his rage against his people. The darkness eventually overtook him, and he began killing his own kind. Believing in his heart the fae did not deserve to exist. He was eventually caught, but not before faekind was crippled by his hatred. The King banished him, knowing that without being allowed to return, eventually all magic would leave him and his fae age would catch up with his mortal body causing his death.

Daryl told himself it was just a story. Which led to thoughts of his father telling him it was just a story. Well, not so much telling his, as beating into the very fiber of his being they were all just stories.