#Caryl fanfiction

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Working on Blood Ties, a Caryl one shot, and some incorrect quotes.

It’s been one helluva week (surgery recovery, a car accident, illness) but it’d be nice to get something out there for you guys.

Thank you for hanging in there for me. Sorry it’s taking me so long.

I love you all. 🩵

[alatariel-gildaen]

Carol Peletier and Daryl Dixon as Vault Hunters.

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Vault of the Savior

[ninelives2]

Happy September! Fanfiction Challenge, Fundraising!

We start September with two big announcements. Firstly, below you will find the details of our first fanfic challenge in several years - we hope you will be inspired to take part.

The second announcement is that, while we have been incredibly fortunate to have had enough funding to keep us going through the Caryl dark years, sadly funds are now running low. 

Our last funding drive was in 2021, and the money raised then and since has paid for upkeep costs through 2024!

We are incredibly grateful to those who have donated to the site in the past, and those who have set up a regular donation - you are seen and appreciated, friends! 

However, In order to continue Nine Lives as an active site, we need to ask for your help to boost the funds and keep the site going.

We want to keep being the Caryl safe haven you love and need through the next few years, so if you can help contribute to the running costs of the site, please click the donate button on the home page.

Thank you in advance for any donation, however small. 

FANFIC CHALLENGE - REUNIONS 

Reunited and it feels so good… After a long hiatus - enough time to take a slow boat to France and back - the Nine Lives Fanfic Challenge has returned!

To celebrate Carol’s return to the Walking Dead Universe, and the premiere of season two of TWD: Daryl Dixon The Book of Carol, we invite you to participate in the challenge by writing a fic on the theme of “Reunions”.

Just as we are reuniting with challenges, many fans are being reunited with The Walking Dead - all because we know this fall we will be witnessing another epic Caryl reunion, as Carol travels to France to find Daryl.

Your fic can be your imagining of the upcoming French reunion, or it can be any other kind of reunion. Maybe AU Caryl are attending their high school reunion? Maybe you want to expand on an already canon reunion between Carol and Daryl with new insight? Maybe pirate Caryl have a reunion on the high seas? 

Whatever kind of “Reunion” takes your fancy, here are the rules if you wish to take part in the challenge:

Challenge Dates - Submission date is September 28th; Posting date is September 29th (fics will be posted ahead of the Sunday evening premiere, to give you something to read as you wait.)

Open to - Fan Fiction (Caryl)

The Prompt - Write a story that deals with the theme of Reunion. Please remember, however, as this is a Caryl archive, the story must feature both Carol and Daryl prominently.

The Deadline - All submissions must be turned in by midnight on September 28th, Pacific Standard Time (PST).

Send a PM to tarascarol, subversivegrrl, or ikkleosu on the Nine Lives site that you want to enter the challenge. Even if you’re not sure you’ll have anything ready in time - let us know you’re planning on it. *YOU MUST DO THIS TO BE INCLUDED*

WRITE! Stories must be at least 100 words.

Multiple entries are allowed (and so veryyyy welcome)!

Do not upload it yet!

Submission Day is Saturday, September 28th – post your fic. It will not appear on the archive, but will enter our validation queue. Make sure you submit it under the Nine Lives Challenge category! Just like in challenges past, we will be suspending automatic validation for that day for all authors who enter the challenge. (This is one of the main reasons why you need to let an admin know you’ll be participating.)

Publication Day is Sunday, September 29th – We will post the master list and all of the challenges entries so everything shows up at once.

Any challenge fics posted before September 28th will be deleted. IF FOR SOME REASON you are unable to post on the 28th, please send a PM to one of the challenge mods - we will work with you.

Any questions? Post here or privately to one of the admins. Happy ficcing!

[indigoraysoflight]

“Spicy food in India” | Caryl prompt

requested by @that-left-turn ❤️

~

Cardamom & Curry

Carol stared at the fish. They’d been in Munnar for three days, and Carol had already gathered three South Indian recipes to take home. She decided to try making fish curry for lunch instead of finding a local restaurant, but there was one problem. Carol had never filleted a pomfret before. Daryl was the one who always filleted fish in their home, but he was asleep, so she was on her own.

Henry and his dad, Ezekiel, had planned a trip to Kerala, South India and wanted Lydia to go with them. Lydia and Henry had been dating for three years, and Carol adored Henry. He was respectful – if a little spoiled – and he loved Lydia. She knew Daryl liked him too but was extra grumpy around the boy who was dating his adopted daughter. Henry and his dad travelled a lot and often took Lydia with them. But Daryl refused to let their kid go across the world by herself, even though their kid wasn't really 'a kid'. So, Ezekiel generously extended the invitation to Lydia’s adoptive mom and her adoptive mom’s platonic best friend, who also happened to be Lydia’s adoptive father. To say their first dinner together had been awkward would be an understatement. 

They’d been saving up for a big vacation for a year and a half now, so the timing worked out. Her catering business was going well this year, but Carol doubted they’d ever be able to afford this expensive rental. The luxury cottage was built with rustic stone and wood, and nestled on top of a hill, surrounded by tea and cardamom plantations. Ezekiel had given them the tour when they arrived, but the space was too big for her taste; she would’ve preferred a cozy but comfortable cottage with a view of the rolling hills. Still, she’d smiled graciously every time he pointed out an expensive feature on the property while Daryl sulked in the back. There was an odd tension between Daryl and Ezekiel, and she'd figured out why after what happened yesterday. Carol thought it best to stay with Daryl today and take some time to think–

“You tryna fillet the fish with your mind? Just gotta use a knife.” 

Carol blinked, realizing she had zoned out and she was still staring at the pomfret. “Is that how it works? I thought if I stared at it sternly, it would fillet itself.”

“Gimme.” He limped over and started filleting the pomfrets with impressive precision. 

“Show off,” she muttered under her breath.

His hair was dishevelled, and he wore cargo shorts and a faded tie-dye t-shirt that Sophia had made for him years ago. She pushed his fringe back to examine the cut on his face, held together by butterfly bandages. They'd been more generous with their touches lately – especially since they got here – but she didn't mind, and she didn't think he minded either by the way he leaned into her touch.  

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch,” he said without looking up at her. 

“You’re lucky you didn't need stitches.” He looked up at her then, his eyes intense as they flicked down to her lips. She realized she was just running her fingers through his hair now and stepped back. 

She and Daryl woke up before dawn the last two mornings and, in a jetlagged daze, walked along the path through the tea plantation to catch the sunrise. They didn’t expect it to rain on their way back yesterday. She slipped and would’ve tumbled down the path, but Daryl steadied her, lost his balance, and landed in the tea plantation. Besides a large cut on the left side of his face, tea leaves stuck to his elbows and knees, and a sprained ankle — he was intact. His eyes held a fear she hadn’t seen in five years –  fear and something else – as he frantically checked her for injuries and then held her in his arms for a solid minute in the rain.  

“This fish isn't going to marinate itself,” she said in a chipper voice and mixed the spices in a bowl to calm her heart rate before smearing a generous amount of the paste on the fish. 

“That’s enough. Dunno if I need more spice.”

Carol smirked and batted her eyelashes at him. “But I thought you liked it when I’m spicy, Pookie.”   

“Stop.” 

They fell into the rhythm they had in their own kitchen. She sauteed the onions with the spice mixture while he squinted at the recipe she’d scribbled on a paper pad and started cutting the tomatoes – stopping every few seconds to pop a slice in his mouth. Carol took a deep breath and focused on the onions. Something had viscerally shifted between them on the long flight over here. She’d clung to him on the plane during turbulence, and after they landed, they kept reaching for an excuse to touch each other. She’d been so unguarded in the way she leered at him that Lydia and Henry had given her a knowing look more than once.  

“Where’s the royal family? I’m guessing Lydia is with them?” Daryl casually fed her a slice of tomato and then sucked the juice off his fingers. 

They’re gone, and I’m in trouble. Carol steadied her voice. “Lydia, Henry, and Zeke went sightseeing; they won’t return until after dinner.” It’s just us, and you keep doing that thing with your mouth, she thought.

Carol let the curry simmer while they stepped onto the balcony and lounged on the chairs, staring at the green expanse. The air was dewy and perpetually scented with a hint of cardamom. Sophia would’ve loved this place. She would be perched on the balcony with her sketchbook, scribbling away and absentmindedly picking at her nails. 

“Why didn’t ya go with them? I’m sure Henry’s dad will miss you.” Daryl growled and picked at his nail. 

The tension between Daryl and Ezekiel got worse when he limped on their way back yesterday, and Ezekiel offered to pay for a doctor to take a look at him. Carol knew he would refuse, and thankfully she had packed some first aid supplies because she knew this man too damn well.

Carol rolled her eyes. “I wanted to stay and take care of Lydia’s dad, so he understood.”

Daryl’s lips quirked up, summoning a flutter in her belly. What are we doing here, Daryl? She wanted to ask. They’d been tip-toeing around each other for years now. Or she thought they were. Maybe this is all they’d ever be – platonic best friends who lived together, who raised a daughter and lost another. Two people who let their touches linger too long, reached for each other when they were afraid, longed for each other when they were apart, and sometimes slept in each other’s arms but never crossed that line. Always something more, but never quite enough. 

“Surprised he hasn’t asked ya out yet.” 

Carol blinked at Daryl, wanting to point out the irony in what he’d said. Irritation coursed through her as the curry burbled away, and she decided to come clean about what had happened the previous evening. 

“He did after dinner last night.”

“What?” Daryl looked like he’d been punched in the gut; Carol tried to ignore the twinge of guilt and failed. 

Ezekiel had helped her load the dishwasher in the kitchen and asked her out before they retired to their rooms last night. He’d been a perfect gentleman – charming, respectful, and chivalrous. But all she’d thought about was how Daryl’s eyes had lingered on her lips before dinner when he’d told her she looked beautiful. 

“I told him I’ll think about it.” They weren’t in a position to anger their host, even though she felt that Ezekiel would accept defeat graciously and not put them in an awkward position. 

“Why didn’t ya say yes?”

“Why does it matter?”

Daryl’s behaviour was giving her whiplash. He practically undressed her with his eyes last night and almost launched himself at Ezekiel for complimenting her at dinner. Now, he was pushing her to date the man.

Daryl peered through his fringe, his eyes earnest. “He’s real charming, rich, generous, and clearly has a thing for ya.”

Carol crossed her arms. “If he’s so great, why don't you go out with him?”

“Pfft. Ain’t my type.” 

“What is your type?” Carol raised her eyebrows, ignoring the heat that crept up her cheeks as Daryl’s eyes roamed her face and lingered on her lips before he pried his gaze away.

“Don’t change the subject. He’s corny and a bit pretentious, but he doesn’t seem like an asshole.”

“So, that’s what you want then? For me to date Ezekiel?” Her voice wavered, but she held his gaze, her anger now simmering to the surface and prickling at her eyes. Is that what he wanted? Then why did he look at her like that all the time — like he was afraid of losing her? Had she gotten this all wrong? Did she spend years pining after a man who was finally telling her he was not interested? 

Daryl looked away. “I want ya to be happy. He’d treat you like a Queen and-”

“-I should get started on the appam.” 

Carol went to the kitchen before the tears formed in her eyes, hating the open plan of the cottage where she could feel Daryl’s eyes follow her. Her hand reached for the pink bauble pendant resting on her chest. After Sophia died, they’d grown closer and built a wall between them at the same time. But when Lydia came into their lives, the wall started breaking down. She hoped, in time, they could pick up where they left off. Now, she didn’t know why she thought this vacation would be a new beginning for them. Daryl was never going to see her as anything but his best friend. She’d waited too long. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daryl loved watching her cook. Her hair was tied up in a bun; she wore a loose Bowie t-shirt, baggy sweats, and soft fuzzy elf socks Lydia got for her last Christmas. The aroma of cardamom and chilli lingered in the air as she poured rice batter on a pan to make the rice crepes they called appam. He wished he could walk up and wrap his arms around her, kiss the nape of her neck and see if he could taste cardamom on her skin. I bet Ezekiel didn't think this hard before he made his move. He sighed. 

Daryl didn’t know how many days he had left to savour her presence, reach for her hand when they walked up a crooked path and watch the sunrise wash over her freckles. She looked radiant last night in the blue dress that hugged her form and illuminated her eyes. He knew sooner or later, she’d meet a man who deserved her. I didn’t think it would be this soon. To think he’d hoped this vacation would give them time to figure out what their future looked like. Even if Daryl selfishly wished to be with her, Carol deserved someone who could offer her the world. Ezekiel sure as hell checked all the boxes.

Carol deserved all of this. Lavish vacations, a charming partner, and children who adored her – who were safe and in her arms. She deserved a comfortable life after everything she’d been through.  

Daryl’s work as a contractor was unpredictable, and renting a cottage of this size for twelve days was out of the question. He thought the trip he’d taken her and Sophia on to the Grand Canyon had been extravagant because he’d spent a chunk of his savings to upgrade them to a big cabin with a mini-pool. Now Henry’s rich father entered the picture and showed him up with one effortless, generous gesture and an offhanded “We vacation here every summer”. The universe could’ve kicked him in the balls, and it would’ve hurt less. 

Daryl walked into the kitchen and started slicing some red onions to soak in lemon juice because he needed something to do before his thoughts choked him. Carol’s eyes were far away when she held up a spoon so he could taste the curry; the heat from the spices hit him straight in the back of his throat and lingered on his palate. 

“Why did you stay after Sophia died?” 

Daryl coughed. “What?”

“You heard me.”

It didn’t even occur to him to leave after Sophia died. When he’d rented the basement apartment in Carol’s house all those years ago, he only wanted a cheap place to rest his head as he went through trade school. Daryl hadn’t expected to fall so deeply in love with Carol and co-parent her child with her. Before he knew it, he'd moved upstairs into the spare room, and he walked the kid to school every day and helped with her homework. He’d come to love Sophia like she was his own daughter. When she died, he and Carol had anchored each other through their shared grief over the loss of their little girl. Then, another kid walked through the doors, and they were given another chance.  

“I loved that kid. I know Sophia wasn’t mine, but she was.” He didn’t expect his voice to break as his eyes lingered on Carol's pink bauble necklace. 

“I know. But that’s not what I asked.” her voice was soft, her eyes crystal in the afternoon light – she was crying in the kitchen when he was busy leering at her. He wanted to kick himself for being an idiot again. 

Carol pinned him with her gaze. “Why’d you stay?” 

“Why didn’t ya say yes to Ezekiel?” he deflected.

“I’m not interested in him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t love him.” Carol’s voice was a desperate whisper. “Ezekiel wasn’t the one who held me through my grief. He didn’t take my daughter trick-or-treating or scour ten game stores to find the obscure video game she wanted. He didn’t make her chicken soup with alphabet pasta when she was sick. He didn’t treat me and my daughter like we were the center of his universe-” Carol’s voice broke, and she wiped her tears. 

“Carol-” 

“-I thought we were on the same page, Daryl, and hoped we’d have a stroke of luck with the change of scenery, but I guess I was wrong.” 

Did she really not know? Had he not been clear enough about how he felt? He loved her so much he’d let her walk into a pretentious rich guy’s arms—shit. As he played the thoughts over in his mind, he realized how they must’ve sounded out loud. I fucked up. Words chased each other in his mind as he struggled to explain. 

“Our luck’s run out,” Carol sighed and turned to leave.

Before he could think too hard, he pulled her close and kissed her. Her lips tasted of cardamom, and her. Carol. A small part of his mind worried about her shoving him away, but instead, she melted in his embrace and drew him in for more. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His lips were softer than she’d imagined. He kissed her deeply and slowly like he had all the time in the world. His hands were everywhere – caressing her face, gripping her waist, tangled in her hair – like he was tracing her silhouette in his memory. When they came up for air, her mind was molasses, and her thoughts returned to her slowly. He traced her jawline with a featherlight touch and looked at her like he worried she would disappear. Carol blinked away the tears and ran a finger alongside the butterfly bandages on his face. Their eyes met, and he held her hand to his cheek and kissed it. 

“Why’d you stay?” she asked again. 

“I stayed because I belong with you.”

There was nothing else she could say but kiss him again and wonder why she hadn’t done it sooner. 

“Why did you tell me to date Ezekiel?” she asked between kisses. 

“I’m an idiot.” He kissed her back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After their make-out session, they took a quick break to catch a breath and have lunch – a bowl of fish curry with rice crepes or appam. They’d been eating spicy food for days, and he always regretted it in the morning, but that didn't stop him. He dove in immediately, savouring every bite as the sharp taste of chilli and cardamom hit his palate. Sooo good. He could still taste the fish, and it melted in his mouth. He couldn’t slow down if he tried, so he helped himself to a red onion slice soaked in lemon juice and hummed as the acid cut through the savoury richness of the curry.

Carol watched him with a smile – her gaze soft and open. Most of her hair had escaped the bun, her cheeks were flushed, and her lips looked swollen and kissable. His brain short-circuited; he didn’t know whether to continue eating the curry or kiss her. She solved his problem by scooping some fish with the appam and feeding it to him; Daryl held her gaze as he ate and licked the pads of her fingers with his tongue. 

He didn’t know which one of them closed the gap. He didn’t care because he was kissing the woman he loved. His hands pulled her close, and her fingers grabbed his hair as they stumbled toward her bedroom. The taste of cardamon and curry lingered on his tongue as he pressed openmouthed kisses to her neck.   

“Your lips taste spicy, Pookie.” 

“Thought you like it when I’m spicy.”

Her laughter bounced off the walls as he kicked the bedroom door shut behind him. 

_________________________________________________________

A few notes: 

Munnar: Munnar is a hillstation in India’s Kerala state. It's surrounded by rolling hills dotted with tea, coffee, and cardamom plantations.

Appam: Appam is a thin and lacy fermented rice pancake. Traditionally, it’s eaten with stew or coconut chutney. 

Pomfret: This delicate white fish is a staple in coastal regions of India.  

Fish curry recipe for the curious minds (if you plan on making it, please don’t forget to marinate your protein). 

[lola-andheruniverse]

⭐Milestone of Fic Recs: 100 Authors⭐

Dear fellow carylers, today is a very special day! We hit the incredible milestone of 183 caryl fics recommended, written by ONE HUNDRED TALENTED AND DEDICATED CARYL AUTHORS! Guys, that's a 100 different people, from all around the world, taking the time to write something for our ship. I think that's pretty awesome. So, to every caryl author out there, active or not, author of just one or a hundred stories, YOU ARE FUCKING AMAZING! Thank you for sharing your talent with us! Please check our updated index to get a list of all 100 authors with recommended stories. You can also browse the category tags on this blog for daily recs and special recs. Nine Lives alone is the home of 323 authors and it keeps on growing, so there's a lot of other authors to discover out there. I'll keep doing the good work, I promise. It's a true joy! Love you all and thank you for supporting this project!

[thegratefulsouth]

From the woman who gives us all the recs, @lola-andheruniverse I have to recommend 50 days and Countdown, which I've just consumed with a little straw because they are so decadent with longing and intricate detail. I have left very spoilery reviews. Set after the finale, so perfect timing for a read with TBOC so increasingly imminent!

50 Days on Nine Lives

Countdown on Nine Lives

Thank you Lola for all your recs, and your writing, you do a wonderful job 💖

[spanishrose2002]

Does anyone happen to remember the title to the sequel for "Love Child"? Thanks!

[bradfordchens]

give me something i can feel (give me something real)

In the wake of finding Carol in the solitary cell, Daryl and Carol spend a night together.

A s3b Daryl/Carol canon divergence AU.

[nooowestayandgetcaught]

We Ain't Dead

read on AO3

~1k, Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier, G-rating, S2 Canon AU Summary: Before Daryl picks up the trail in the middle of the night, he and Carol stargaze inside of Dale's RV.

[that-left-turn]

So that's why you act like you could do a better job than the writers on the show. LOL Because you wrote a popular fic. Honey let me break it to you. Being a fanfic author is not comparable to creating a whole TV show. You're just as bad at writing as the other one who thinks she's hot shit with her torture porn.

I agree that writing fanfic is nothing like working on a TV production and there’s a lot more that goes into “creating a whole TV show” than just writing an enjoyable story. What I’ve said is that TPTB aren’t doing a good job, which is different from claiming “I could do it better.” I’ve also tried to explain why I hold that opinion.

As for my fic writing, thanks for trying it out. I don’t really read fanfic, so I don’t know what’s out there, but I think it’s best not to compare or rank fic authors. Readers like what they like and each writer is in their own lane. I’m not trying to compete with anyone, whether it’s “the writers of the show” or popular fic writers. There are apparently a couple of people who like Stick Figures, but a flash in the pan doesn’t make anyone a chef 🤷‍♀️ In other words, being a “one hit wonder” is not a sign that someone can consistently put out high-quality content on a deadline.

So no, the relative “popularity” of my very unfinished fic has not gone to my head—that’s not why I dislike Zabel and Gimple as writers and showrunners. Their writing is limited in nuance, filled with shortcuts, dead ends and gimmicks. As showrunners, they're lazy (don't do their homework in terms of research/backstory), biased (favor certain kinds of characters/arcs and as the head of production, you can't have any pets) and they don't create an inclusive work environment where everyone feels appreciated for the effort they put in. A showrunner has to be a leader, not just the boss and nobody should fear getting knifed in the back.

[my-mt-heart]

Kicking off 2024 with something fun(?) for a change. If you remember my minisode days, you may or may not remember one where I wrote Caryl beginning their relationship as enemies. One dear friend really loved it—why, I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️— but a year later, I wrote some additional scenes for her as gifts. She encouraged me to post them publicly, so now here I am doing that. Enjoy the links below along with a sneak peek 🫣

Stupid Bitch Part 1

Stupid Bitch Part 2

Stupid Bitch Part 3

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

I absolutely love writing Daryl as being captivated, even discreetly so, with Carol. Just…with the desire to give her everything, worship her. And she’s just as enthralled with him but neither of them realize the extent of the other’s devotion.

Idiots. Both of them. I love it.

[alatariel-gildaen]

Strangers - on AO3

[ninelives2]

Countdown to TBOC!

Just over a week until the premiere of (the increasingly awkwardly named) The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon - The Book of Carol (Season 2) and I'm sure we're all working on those reunion fics for the Nine Lives challenge... right?

If you're thinking about it but haven't signed up yet, you've still got plenty of time to get inspired and throw your hat in the metaphorical ring - we'll be turning off author validation late on Friday 9/27 in prep for everyone to submit their challenge fics on Saturday 9/28. Advance signup is required to participate. Just send a PM to us here, or to any of the admins on the Nine Lives site, saying that you want to submit a story for the challenge. We'll do the rest. (see the pinned post here for challenge details.)

And while you're at it, you might consider clicking on that "donate" button on Nine Lives' front page, to keep our little Caryl corner of the world running for the next few years.

We are, as always, grateful to all of you - for reading, for writing, for donating, for supporting us.

[indigoraysoflight]

tempted to ask for one of the dirty prompts but to spite myself, how about 23?

CARYL pls

Hey there nonny, here you go <3

23. vintage

It was the cabin all over again.

Carol felt the tension between them wrap around her spine like a taut string as they walked inside the dilapidated building to camp out for the night. It was the first time they were alone. Really alone. Without people muttering around them in French with questioning glances, and suspicious prying eyes following their every move. Daryl hadn't left her side since they reunited a few days ago – he simply clasped her hand and led her inside without a word to his French companions.

They'd held each other so desperately when she found him - his face was pressed into the crook of her neck, his fingers dug deep welts in her jacket, and his arms clutched her so close that she felt his heaving breaths right down to the tips of her toes.

His warmth lingered on her perpetually as she kept finding ridiculous excuses to touch him. She felt ashamed of her weakness, but losing him for all this time had made her fear worse. So her arms lingered on his sides when he checked her after a fight; she leaned into him as they walked, brushed against his fingers when she handed him his crossbow, or traced his face every time she checked his head wound and watched him stare at her lips longingly.

Even though everything ached at that look.

Her tears blurred her vision when his eyes roamed her face every spare moment they had together. He'd hesitate for a long moment before brushing them with his thumbs, and pressing his forehead to hers until it was time to keep moving again.

But the deep yearning for each other's warmth had evaporated into thin air the moment they were on this path by themselves. Reality kicked in as days passed, and she saw how different he looked here, how at ease he was with the terrain and the people.

It reminded her of the days after the cabin when she didn't know exactly where she fit into his life. As the distance between them grew, and his hesitance to approach her got stronger – an unexpected spark of sadness followed her.

They found a large, empty room in the building for the night. The floors were crusted marble, an old charred fireplace against a wall with a stack of wood that looked untouched for years, and a rusty bronze chandelier covered in cobwebs smashed in the corner. The walls were all crooked chunks of brick and plaster cracked away with time. Two long windows on either side of the fireplace filtered the dying light in the room.

She turned her back to him and removed her gun, coat, and jacket. There was a rustle of fabric behind her as he did the same. She unrolled their bedrolls and sat with her back against the wall as he knelt down and lit a fire. He reached into his pocket to draw a box of matches when a tiny brown wooden box fell out, rolled across the floor, and clattered against her right foot.

Carol lifted it to find a crude etching of a flower on top of it, she turned it in her hand as he stoked the flames. He chewed his lip and looked at the box, then back up at her. His hair was soft gold in the firelight with threads of silver peeking through it.

"What's this?" The box rattled as she turned it upside down.

"Open it." He sat with his back against the wall, a few feet away from her.

The box unscrewed, and sitting inside was a tarnished silver Jasper ring. It looked about a hundred years old, with soft ochre and black spots forming around the knots on the sides, the crevices, and the rim of the dotted silver bubbles around the textured green Jasper stone in the middle.

"A ring?" Carol furrowed her brow.

"It's a Jasper ring." Daryl's voice was soft, taking her back to another time when he'd used it to tell her a story. "Heard a long time ago that Jasper helps give you the courage to face hardships and strengthens bonds between loved ones that are gone."

She traced the knots on either side of the ring. "Celtic knots," Daryl moved closer and tentatively touched one. "That there is a love knot, a sign of love shared between two people."

Their eyes locked for one searing moment, his eyes lingering on her lips, tears glistening on his lashes. His lips were chapped and dry, he swiped them with his tongue before looking down at his hands. Carol turned back to the ring.

The Jasper stone was a gradient of streaked green and bright points of soft yellow patterns, like a constellation etched in stone. Its shine had dulled over the years, it looked like it had weathered quite a few storms. She could feel Daryl's eyes on her as she twirled the ring.

"It's beautiful."

"Yeah."

She turned and saw him gazing at her softly.

"Found it in this antique shop I was camping in one night when I was alone in the early days." He leaned his head back on the wall. "Reminded me of that ring you used to wear back at the Commonwealth – the one you lost after the battle."

"Is that why you kept this ring?" Carol hated how small her voice sounded.

He nodded, "It gave me hope."

She searched his eyes quietly even though she knew he was telling the truth.

"Dunno why but I thought for as long as I held on to it, you wouldn't forget me. Let me go." Daryl's eyes were pleading. "So when I saw you again, I could give it to you."

"I'm never going to forget you, Daryl."

His exhale trembled out of him, and his eyes glistened.

Carol wiped her tears and looked down at the ring. "Why didn't you give it to me?" The words cracked around the edges.

"Didn't think you'd want it anymore."

She looked back at him. His fringe covered his face and his fingers twitched in his lap. Carol held the ring out, Daryl accepted it quietly. She locked eyes with him and held out her hand. His eyes widened briefly, and shone in the moonlight as he searched her face. She smiled at him softly, and he placed the ring on her finger.

Leaning her head on his shoulder, she swayed her hand to catch the moonlight on the yellow specks of the Jasper stone. She turned to look at his watery blue eyes to find him staring at her longingly.

"What do you think?"

Daryl's lips quirked up, "It suits ya," he said without looking away from her.

Carol's smile wilted into the raw longing she'd felt when she thought she would never find him again. She caressed his jaw and she let herself see him – all of him beneath the thin veneer he'd donned to survive in this strange land.

Her resolve cracked and tears spilled anew when Daryl made a tiny whimpering sound in the back of his throat and pressed his forehead against hers. He turned his face into her palm and pressed his lips to it, then pulled her closer so she could rest her head on his chest. A few moments later, his breathing turned into soft snores, and the raw longing she felt escaped through her lips before she could stop it.

"Should've gone to New Mexico..."

The silence that followed made the fire crackle louder. The Jasper stone glinted in its light. Carol fisted her fingers in his shirt, nuzzling into his chest and letting her tears soak into his skin as he slept.

"It's still out there." Daryl's chest rumbled beneath her ear. She looked up.

"Yeah?" Carol's voice trembled.

"Yeah." Daryl's voice was firm.

His thumb grazed her cheek and caught her tears, his hand wrapped over the ring and held onto her hers tightly.

He kissed the crown of her head, and she nuzzled back into his chest and pressed a kiss to his skin. His arms engulfed her until she was surrounded by him. Daryl. His breath tangling in her hair, his heart thrumming in her ear, his skin grazing her lips, his warmth lulling her to sleep, and his ring wrapped around her heart.

Hope was not lost.

[lola-andheruniverse]

📢 Caryl On! FanFiction Recs Project - Getting ready to return!

Dear fellow carylers, in a week our project will be back with new fics recommendations! It's been a while since I had asks with recs for Your Turn Sunday so, if you want to join in and help me spread the love for caryl fanfiction and our writers, please send me your favorite stories so I can add them to our archive. See you all on Nov 4th!