beloyaltowhatmatters

[beloyaltowhatmatters]

THIS BLOG HAS OFFICALLY MOVED TO @xxgotthedevilinsidexx

[beloyaltowhatmatters]

Dutch never harbored any resentment towards her memory problems. Despite occasional forgetfulness, she remained his sole and cherished Annabelle. Since the beginning, she had stood by his side, and something as trivial as that could never alter his steadfast love and dedication to her. He made it one of his missions to create new memories with her every day, to cherish each moment they shared together.

His mind has been wandering lately, and he mentally scolds himself for it. But when he reflects on their departure, he realizes that their actions were not just a mere abandonment, but a profound betrayal of trust. The wounds inflicted on his heart run deep, leaving him questioning the authenticity of their family. The pain lingers, and the only thing that is going to change is the devastating impact their next move is going to make. 

" They knew it would come to this. They've seen firsthand what happens to those who turn on us. No one can tell me Arthur of all people thought this would be different just because it was them. " Annabelle's correctness once more prevailed, all of them would be left thinking about the selfish decisions they had made. " They might think they're ready but I can assure you they are not. "

He gave up a great deal for those boys in the past. Embracing them, providing them with shelter, and imparting knowledge to them. He transformed two young boys who were directionless into grown men. Even at present, he was sacrificing his time due to the mental toll it had taken on him, but that is no longer the case. But no more!

Dutch's gaze finally rose from their hands, a sinister grin playing on his lips. " Better believe I will. I'm goin' to give them that and so much more. "

Annabelle cursed in an unlady like fashion for her mistake. It was far from her first time such a blunder slipped, but every single time it happened, she hated it. She'd be forever cursed with her memory lapses since her brush with death. Dutch was a dearheart for tolerating with it all these years later. His loyalty to her was a reminder that she'd never find another man like him, and for that, she'd never leave his side. Unlike some people they knew.

Though her short term memory was a constant struggle, her long term memory was never in question. She could still remember the past well, and she recalled how fearless Dutch was against anyone who stood in the gang's way. A well-educated and charismatic man, he gave everyone who followed him a sense of purpose and unity. How could anyone turn their backs on him after everyone he'd done for him? It was downright shameful!

"I'm sure seeing you after all these years will cause a stir of emotions with those boys like a hornet's nest," Annabelle stated as she welcomed the touch of his lips upon her knuckles. It spread a gentle warm up her arm and drew a smile upon her face. "It will make them think twice about the decisions they've made since abandoning you and your cause."

There were always choices. Even after Colm shot her, and she nearly lost her life, she never considered leaving Dutch. Never once did she blame him for what happened. She understood that it was simply the way of the lifestyle. Any one of the van der Linde gang members could've been taken in that position.

As she used her thumb to stroke the side of his hand, she added, "Give the boys my regards while you're out there, won't you?"

While she wished she could ride out there with Dutch, she understood she'd be in the way more than anything. She was more of a liability with her memory issues, so she was protected at their current hideout.

[beloyaltowhatmatters]

" Hold on a minute, I don't think this world could handle another Arthur. The world has been tryin' to spit me out for years now. " Arthur playfully taunts, yet deep down he secretly adored the idea of naming their son AJ - assuming they had a boy. No matter how hard he tried to suppress it, a smile was fighting to emerge on his face as she began listing off every female name beginning with an M.

" I think you forgot a few like Melody, Makayla, Miriam, Monica... " Arthur started listing off every female name that popped into his head. The notion of the name beginning with M wasn't particularly bothersome, especially since it would complement Mary's. With each name that crossed his mind, Arthur imagined how it would sound when spoken aloud, how it would fit with their last name, and how it would reflect the uniqueness of their little girl. He felt a sense of excitement and anticipation, knowing that the right name was out there, waiting to be discovered.  

" Gotta admit I'm likin' the ring behind Makayla. "

Arthur wanted to hide his hand behind his back when Mary caught sight of it, but alas, it was too late, for she had already commenced to make a commotion about it. " It's just a little red, nothin' to worry about. I ran it under some cool water. Just had myself a fumble with the teapot is all. Besides, you need to be restin' and not worryin' about anythin'. This hand has seen far worse than a burn before. "

Mary was all smiles, regardless of any slight discomforts, as she watched her husband tend to her needs. If not for his intimidating, muscular build, one could (but most likely would not) forget he was a fearless gunman capable of taking out someone who looked at him or his loved ones the wrong way. He truly was a thoughtful man who wanted nothing but the best for those he cared about.

After she thanked Arthur for the tea, she answered his question. "In case we come up with the same names, silly darling. Of course, that would mean we have the same way of thinking, and that might make our coming up with names easier. Though, if we have a son, I would love to be traditional and have him have your name."

Arthur Junior, or A.J. for short. That nickname was rather adorable, she thought.

Mary blew across the surface of her tea before taking a careful sip. She closed her eyes and welcomed the soothing taste. Just what she needed. "For a girl, we can do… Perhaps, Minnie? Mabel… Maude, Mattie, Matilda…"

She giggled slightly, and admitted, "I have a thing for 'm' names, as you've probably guessed--oh! Darling, your hand!"

Setting her tea cup down, Mary reached over, and gently clasped Arthur's wrist, where she inspected where he burned his hand earlier. The skin looked mighty irritated. "Don't tell me you were simply going to not say anything about this. Shame on you. Let's take care of this."

[beloyaltowhatmatters]

Sadie believed that her love for Jake was unparalleled. Overcoming the pain of his death was a lengthy process, and even now, it occasionally brings her sorrow. However, through their relationship, she learned that love is not limited; it has the capacity to develop and transform with time. It taught her that the heart possesses an extraordinary capability to expand and accommodate new individuals who leave a lasting impact on our lives. Each day got a little easier than the day before.

Sadie knowingly grinned. " Yeah I saw, but I also saw through it. It's easy to see the signs when you've been in that situation before. Hell, I think Arthur and I were the first ta notice there was a little more going on with the two of ya. "

Sadie had expressed her gratitude towards the individuals in their small, tight-knit circle. Each person played a unique role in helping her overcome her past and regain her strength. Arthur's heroic act of rescuing her from the O'Driscoll Boys created a debt that she knew she could never fully repay. Nevertheless, she vowed to stand by his side and assist him in any way possible. This commitment extended to everyone in their group. She had managed to endure, and maybe someday she would have the chance to experience love once more. Whether that day ever arrived or not, she found solace in simply witnessing the abundance of joy from the others surrounding her.

" Don't worry yourself too much about what they'd think. Look at it this way, while they're stuck fantasizing you've got the real deal. " Sadie reached over and patted her on the knee. Her next question however had Sadie's brow raising. " I mean while it's always been custom for the man to ask the woman, if it's something you really want I don't see no harm in it. I say go for it cause we ain't exactly traditional folk here. "

Karen found a chair for herself and sat down next to Sadie, eager to listen to her explanation. She remembered the days gone by, when poor Mrs. Adler was a new widow, openly grieving for the loss of her husband at the hands of those damned O'Driscoll Boys. It seemed like she would never recover, but gradually, she did, and hell, she became a spitfire in her own right. She ditched the skirt for trousers and became more vocal and bloodthirsty.

"Best friends, huh?" Karen mused. "Back when you were brought into our gang, you probably saw me wanting to throttle Sean more than anything."

He was loud, obnoxious, annoying - sometimes he'd be sleeping during guard duty, or whittling when he should be doing chores, flirting with the girls at camp, or telling silly stores at the campfire with the boys… but behind all that, there was a certain charm about the Irishman that kept her anchored to him. When he was almost killed during a botched job at Rhodes, she realized how much she cared deeply for him, and never wanted to leave his side. The group splitting away from Dutch, and being able to live their own lives, helped her focus on the fact that, well, she loved him. Sean was the only man she could truly care for.

"If Tilly and Mary-Beth were here, they'd be teasin' me 'til the cows came home," Karen remarked, and it was followed with a snort. "Here I am, sounding all… romantic about Sean of all people, when they were the ones always going on about their fantasies about their hopes and dream weddings. You know, women's rights, women voting - hell, I'd just settle for being married to Sean, taking his last name, and makin' him happy as his wife, if he'd let me. But Mrs. Adler, would it be crazy if I were to ask him to marry me?"

[beloyaltowhatmatters]

" I know we did what we had to but do you ever regret it? "

As much as it pained her to pull away from Dutch, she knew it was what they had to do. Their time with Dutch's gang had been filled with danger, uncertainty, and a constant state of chaos. While she cared about Dutch and the bond they had formed over the years, her love for John and Jack surpassed everything else. She couldn't bear the thought of losing either of them. She watched Jack grow daily, witnessing his innocence slowly fade as he became more aware of the harsh realities surrounding them. She wanted nothing more than to shield him from the violence and instability that seemed to follow Dutch. As a mother, no one could blame her for wanting better for her child.

There were times when Abigail found herself reminiscing about the camaraderie, the thrill of their daring escapades, and the sense of belonging she had once felt within the gang. She missed the shared laughter, the inside jokes, and even the occasional moments of vulnerability they had all experienced together. But deep down, Abigail knew that those fleeting instances were overshadowed by a much darker reality. The constant danger, violence, and disregard for others' well-being had worn her down over time. She couldn't ignore the guilt that gnawed at her every waking moment. Leaving the gang was not an easy decision for Abigail. It meant severing ties with people who had become like family to her. It meant stepping into an uncertain future where she would have to redefine herself and find a new purpose in life but not once had she regretted that choice.

Family wasn't always about blood, but rather the deep connections forged through shared experiences and unwavering loyalty. In this new chapter of their lives, Arthur, Mary, Sadie, and the others had become more than just comrades; they were a tight-knit family bound by a common purpose and she would bleed for every one of them if she had to.

As they turned the bend to the ranch Abigail's eyes caught with John's just as he told her he loved her. It drew a warm smile across her lips. Hearing him say such words out loud was like the sweetest kind of music to her ears. She squeezed John's hand even tighter. " I love you too, John. " As they approached closer, Abigail's heart raced with anticipation. The thought of being alone with John, away from prying eyes and the demands of their daily lives, filled her with an intoxicating excitement. She yearned for those stolen moments of intimacy that only they shared. " Hurry ... "

" Jackpot is right. "

He remembered the secluded spot he had discovered during his reconnaissance mission in Blackwater. It had served as the perfect hideout, tucked away amidst the dense woods that enveloped the area. The proximity to Manzanita Post provided an added advantage, allowing him to keep a close eye on any potential threats or law enforcement activity. Micah had always been meticulous in his planning, and this hideout had proven to be an invaluable asset during those days leading up to the ill-fated heist. Micah even recalled stumbling upon a little burned-down structure nearby. But this place looked nothing like the days of old.

The lush green pastures stretched as far as the eye could see, dotted with grazing cattle and various livestock. It was a sight that spoke of prosperity and success. His mind raced with questions. What had they done to amass such fortune? And why had they chosen this remote location for their ranch? The more he pondered, the more intrigued he became. Even he knew the upkeep on a place like this took a pretty penny. " Looks, like we found what we came for. Oh, I can't wait to see the look on Dutch's face when I tell him about this. "

" Let's take a closer look. "

Micah and Etta continued riding quietly through the thicket of trees, careful not to disturb the peacefulness of the pasture. The tall grass brushed against their legs as they followed the faint trail that led them closer to the property's fence line. As they approached, Micah raised his binoculars to get a better look at that old bastard Uncle slumbering under a shade tree. Dismounting his horse he took another look to spot down the way, Charles and Sean were tending to some animals at the barn. " Think I've seen enough of this sickening display. But I'm still not satisfied. "

No Micah Bell was anything but satisfied. He made his way over to Etta's horse where he reached up taking her by the arm, and pulled her from the back of her horse. An animalistic look glinted across his eyes as he moved them until her back was planted against a tree. " You've flaunted that pretty ass in front of me one too many times today. " Before she could respond his mouth and teeth were upon her neck. His hands hurriedly hiking that damn long dress up the length of her legs. If he waited much longer she wouldn't have anything left to wear on the ride back to the camp.

John had one hand on the reins while the other rested on Abigail's lap. The ride home was uneventful, but he thought about the questions his wife asked him: the regrets and choices made. The both of them had rough childhoods growing up, and neither of them wanted to ever put Jack into a position where he had to struggle like they did.

"We did what we had to, darlin'," John spoke truthfully as their wagon made the familiar bend around the fork, leaving the town of Blackwater behind them. "It wasn't easy, but it was for the best."

No more scratching and clawing to make ends meet, no more traveling about like gypsies… They had a permanent place to call home: a forever home that was theirs, with a roof over their heads, a kitchen, a living room, bedrooms, a fireplace, a farm - the whole works. There wasn't anything John wouldn't do to provide for his wife and son. He made the mistake of denying them his affections for far too long. No, never, ever again. This time, he would be there for them, always and forever.

As the archway to their ranch was on the horizon, John gave Abigail's hand a squeeze, as he turned to her and said, "Love you, Abigail."

Etta bit her lower lip, trying to hold back a smile, from Micah's vulgar remark. She loved the way he talked to her in such a crude manner, and she didn't care if they were out in the open. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time he'd taken advantage of her on a horse, either. Just thinking about what that mouth of his could do to her stirred a fire within her that she was, unfortunately, forced to tame - for now.

The rolling hillsides and vast stretch of plains offered coverage for the Micah and Etta as they left Blackwater, preventing them from being easily spotted from their vantage point. Etta thought back to the day when the Blackwater Massacre took place. Back then, she wasn't on the boat, because there were already enough members of the gang participating on the job. Instead, she'd been asked to stay behind to guard the others. She was furious for not being able to go, going as far as to accuse Dutch of having her stay behind because she was a woman (despite how well he treated her overall); but looking at where they were at today, maybe it was for the best life worked out the way that it had. The turncoats revealed themselves to be none other than the ones closest to Dutch, and her beloved Micah earned his way as Dutch's right-hand man.

"Jackpot," Etta announced, as she and Micah simultaneously spotted the wagon from the distance as it pulled into the entrance of a ranch called Beecher's Hope. Etta could've sworn the last time she rode through these parts a few years ago, this area was a dump. The land only had a tiny house, and it was occupied by squatters. To think John and whoever had the means and the money to create a ranch out of it?

Well, well, well.

[beloyaltowhatmatters]

@achanceofforgiveness asked:

"Mrs. Adler? Just between us, if anything happens to me, promise me you'll take care of my dear Arthur? I can't bear the thought of him being alone. Not again, not after everything he's gone through. Please, promise me?" (Mary to Sadie)

" That's crazy talk now. Ain't nothin' gonna happen to you, Mary. "

She couldn't help but empathize with Mary's concerns. Pregnancy and childbirth were undoubtedly unpredictable journeys, filled with both joy and anxiety. However, she firmly believed that this situation would be different. She had the unwavering support of doctors, from regular check-ups to testing, they had diligently monitored her health and the baby's development.

Moreover, Arthur had been an unwavering pillar of strength for Mary throughout this entire journey. He attended every appointment, listened attentively to the doctor's advice, and made sure she felt cherished and cared for at all times. But beyond medical professionals and Arthur's support, there was something else that fueled her confidence – an unshakable belief in everyone's devotion to this place and everyone within it.

" If it will make you feel better then of course you know I'd look after him. I'd do that for anyone here. But with that bein' said y'aint goin' nowhere and ain't nothin' happenin' to you - not so as long as I'm around. You hear me? Now let's get you back inside. "

[beloyaltowhatmatters]

@achanceofforgiveness asked:

“Mrs. Adler? When did you decide that Mr. Adler was ‘The One’ for you?” (Karen)”

There wasn't a single day that passed that Sadie didn't think about her Jakey. Every little thing reminded her of him, be it a song being sung or a random object they once shared a laugh over. Her love for Jake consumed her existence even after his death.

She rarely had anyone from the group approach her to inquire about her late husband. Initially, Abigail was the one who checked on her the most, followed by occasional inquiries from Arthur. Eventually, conversations about Jake gradually diminished. It was somewhat bittersweet for Karen that now, after all this time, she was the one asking about him. The way the question was posed made her believe there was an underlying motive behind it. It was clear within the group that she and Sean were growing extremely close, which wasn't necessarily a negative thing. However, she struggled with finding a way to tell Karen what she wanted to hear without tearing at her own heartstrings.

" Pullin' out the big questions are ya? " Sadie questioned, then proceeded to find a chair and sit down. This was bound to take some time and effort. " I don't know how you can sum somethin' like that into words. It's just somethin' you feel. " So this already wasn't starting out the greatest. " My Jake and I, we were like best friends. We brought the good out in each other and a day just came when I couldn't picture havin' a life he warn't a part of. That's when I knew. "

[beloyaltowhatmatters]

" Mary, you shouldn't be waitin' that long. Not when I can be helpin' you. " He answered as he disappeared into the kitchen to fix up a cup of tea for her. Despite his recent lack of sleep, Arthur was accustomed to going for extended periods without getting any real rest. His responsibility was to care for Mary and ensure that she had all the necessary provisions to ensure her comfort throughout her pregnancy.

In the kitchen, he ventured towards the drawer and retrieved Abigail's inventory of ingredients. This was an entirely unfamiliar experience for him, but fortunately, Abigail guided him through the process of combining them. It was definitely not as simple as brewing a cup of tea or coffee over an open campfire. After reviewing the list, he set it aside and gathered all the necessary items. He placed water on the stove to begin boiling. Before long, the teapot emitted a high-pitched whistle. As he poured the boiling water into the teapot, a soothing aroma filled the air. The steam rose gracefully, carrying with it the promise of a warm and comforting cup of tea. He carefully selected the right blend, allowing the tea leaves to steep and infuse the water with their rich flavors. 

Upon hearing her question, his attention immediately shifted to the doorway, causing him to accidentally scald his hand with hot water. Realizing he had forgotten something, he suppressed the urge to shout out and instead shook his hand briefly until the discomfort subsided. After tidying up the mess he had created, he responded, " Not yet. Was actually considerin' workin' on it tonight. " Although it was a small fib, he actually intended to take care of it. Curious, he asked. " Why do we need backup names? " Arthur chuckled as he exited the kitchen, carrying a tray with her tea. Placing the tray before her and presenting her with the cup, he went to the closet to fetch a cozy blanket for her. Upon his return, he delicately covered her lap with the soft fabric, ensuring her warmth and comfort. With a compassionate smile, he settled down beside her, prepared to lend an ear to her every need.

" What about you? Got you any names picked out yet? "

"I didn't think I'd want to wake you 'til the pain got the better of me," Mary admitted sheepishly, as she was aided with her husband's help. A sigh of relief escaped her lips, as she eased back into the heating pad and seat. This was heaven in itself as her lower muscles proceeded to relax some. Only now, her fingers cramped from the intense writing from earlier. She slowly started wiggling them on her lap.

"Yes, please, thank you, Arthur," she said as she gazed at his backside, as he disappeared into the kitchen. The tea would be even better once it was prepared. She reflected when her mother was pregnant with Jamie. Like Arthur and Mary's child, Jamie happened to come late into the Gillis' lives, when Mary was a teenager; but Mary was looking forward to being a big sister. She helped her mother prepare for the new arrival. Even when Daddy wasn't around as much as she should've been, Mary did her best to learn how to help care for Mama during her time of need: how to bottle-feed the baby, change clothed diapers, bathe, play - everything that needed to be done to care for the little one. Even after so much time had passed, she could still remember what to do as if it were only yesterday. She still thought of Jamie as her boy, despite the fact that not only was he a fully grown man, but that he was a college graduate with his own life, and his own family.

"Did you make a list of boy and girl names in your journal?" Mary asked Arthur as he was busying himself in the kitchen. "I don't want either of us fussing over names until it comes time for the baby to arrive. I want us to be firm on a name long before he or she arrives. First and middle name. Back up names, too."

As tired, achy, and moody as she was in general, Mary was over the moon to be pregnant. She'd long gotten over the nervousness and shame of being an older mother in society's eyes. Who cared what everyone else thought? The only person who mattered in this situation was Arthur. It was his child she carried, a man whom she loved more than anyone else in this world. She wanted to make him proud, and she'd do everything to make sure nothing would happen to his baby.

[beloyaltowhatmatters]

Micah's vivid recollection lingered in his memory of the night he had ruthlessly stripped away every garment she possessed. With an air of brazen confidence, he proudly recalled the power and dominance he exerted over her vulnerable form. Each tearing sound echoed victoriously in his mind as her clothing disintegrated under the force of his insatiable desire. Oh, how she writhed and begged for mercy, her pleas falling on deaf ears enraptured by unadulterated pleasure. Micah reveled in the knowledge that he had reduced her to nothing but bare flesh, stripping away not just her clothing, but also any semblance of control or agency she once held. The intensity of their encounter marked a moment when they both realized that the boundaries between pain and pleasure blurred.

" And you love every single moment the hands of this nasty brute are on that body of yours. " With a bold expression on his face, he couldn't help but let out a mischievous grin as he reflected upon their last exhilarating encounter. The mere thought of it sent a thrilling shiver down his spine, igniting a fire within him that was impossible to extinguish. " Besides, I'd rather keep you naked. "

His eyes lingered on hers as she played with the buttons of his shirt, finally letting her hands rest on his stomach. The intensity in his gaze was palpable, filled with a mix of desire and control. In that moment, he made it clear that he was not one to be trifled with ─ he was confident, commanding, and unapologetically bold.

His middle finger slid between wet silky folds and he held her close. These actions were an affirmation that they refused to let societal norms dictate how they expressed their deepest desires; instead, they embraced liberation and boldly pursued the electrifying chemistry coursing through every inch of their beings. With eyes still focused on hers his fingers began working in quick circular motions. 

" Arthur Morgan couldn't get himself laid even if someone managed to pull that rather large stick from his ass. He's never been the same since ole Dutch had that Mary Linton ran off. "

Etta didn't object to Micah's touch. She always welcomed it, unlike the other ladies in camp. In fact, she was the only one who willingly went to him and enjoyed his company, even when he provoked most of the gang members. There was something about his wild personality, and self-serving attitude that drew her to him from the moment he was recruited by Dutch.

"No, you don't," Etta admitted as her dark eyes brimmed with desire for the gunman. "But may I remind you that you owe me a corset from our last encounter? You ripped the strings clean off my favorite pair, you nasty brute."

She playfully flicked the tip of his mustache, loving how rough he was with her when they were alone. Just thinking about his hands roaming over her body gave her goosebumps. She couldn't wait until they could find a place to be together again without any of the gang stumbling upon them. Seeing how close Micah had grown to Dutch in such a short amount of time, and how Dutch's paranoia was getting the better of him, she wanted to make sure Micah's needs were taken cared of. She was only content if Micah was.

Etta's fingers now danced around the buttons of Micah's shirt before they gradually drifted down to his stomach.

"Mr. Bell, Mr. Morgan wouldn't be so angry all the time if he could only… relax… with a lady friend, wouldn't you agree? I mean, look at you. You're always so focused and have your eyes on the prize."

[beloyaltowhatmatters]

Abigail reclined, cradling her coffee in her palms. She absorbed Charles' explanation of his whereabouts over the past few months. The events of that day remained unspoken, a topic avoided in her presence. However, considering the chaos of discovering and constructing this location from scratch, conversations were scarce amidst the constant hustle and bustle every day. It was moments like these she seemed to miss the most.

She felt a sense of relief that Charles felt comfortable being honest with her. Being a woman didn't mean that she couldn't handle the brutal truth. It also didn't mean that she couldn't protect herself if someone attempted to take away what they had rightfully worked their hands into the blood for.

" I'm glad we had someone like you watching out for us. I can't speak for the others but I don't think Dutch could ever bring himself to that. " She began. " Those boys were like sons to him. Don't get me wrong, he changed, and not for the better but even I couldn't see that happening. " Abigail was confident in her words. " There is no keeping low profiles when Micah Bell is around. My guess is they've packed up and moved on after all this. " That last bit was wishful thinking.

Abigail's faith in bad omens was solely tied to the consequences that followed immoral actions. This notion had been repeatedly validated. Currently, everyone had turned over a new leaf and things were going smoothly. It was difficult to fathom that these were the same individuals who had once engaged in robbery, murder, and evaded the law.

" Charles ... " Abigail smiled brightly as she leaned forward and placed her cup back onto the table. " You always have a home with us. We would be thrilled to have you. " Charles was a good man, a hard worker, and a loyal friend. Anyone would be lucky to have him on their side. " Have you told the others? "

Like Abigail, Charles allowed his coffee to settle before he'd attempt to take a sip. Even as someone as rough as he was, a hot tongue would take his taste buds out for a spell. But he could tell how happy and content Abigail was compared to when they were back at camp, back when they were constantly moving from place to place. She was always worried about Jack and fretting about his future. Even if the boy was getting a bit of education from Hosea, life on the run was no proper life for any child. He needed a stable life, not one that involved the authorities. So long as everyone stayed with Dutch, the longer they'd be in danger.

"After everyone split, I kept back and made sure nobody would retaliate from Dutch's side," Charles said. He was upfront about this with Arthur and the others. No reason to keep this in the dark with ladies. They were all family to him. "We were lucky. Once you've settled with your routine, I wanted to see if Dutch and his crew stuck around to try their luck in any of our old stomping grounds. I only ran into rumors. No sight or sound of them. They might be keeping low profiles, or they've gone as far as moved to another state entirely."

He didn't want to speak out loud such speculations. That was cause for bad omen.

Charles smiled gently at Abigail after he carefully picked up his coffee cup, and brought it to his lips. Blowing air across the surface of his hot beverage, he said to her, "I've decided, with all that said, if you need an extra hand here at the ranch, I'd be more than willing to be just that."

[beloyaltowhatmatters]

Arthur's attempt to maintain composure was futile as his facial expressions gave him away. The information he had just learned was so powerful that even the most unfeeling person would have been affected by it. Tears filled Arthur's eyes, his emotions on the verge of overflowing once again. There was no time for this. He had to return to the farm, gather the boys, and strategize their attack. This was a matter that could not be ignored.

Before he could utter a word, Mary had already dispatched Jack. As he ran his fingers through his hair, he contemplated the urgency of their departure. Placing the book on the counter wasn't something he could do, for he couldn't bear to lose sight of it. The information concealed within its pages was unfathomable.

His gaze remained fixed on the shopkeeper as he moved further away. He gently set the book on the counter, never allowing it to slip from his hands. How could he possibly convey to her the newfound knowledge he had acquired? The mere idea of uttering those words aloud threatened to shatter him.

" Mary, we need to get home. There's unfinished business I need to take care of. " Those were the only words he could manage to say without causing more tears to well in his eyes.

" Dutch ... " And that's where he nearly lost it.

Struggling to keep himself composed, he resorted to the only course of action he believed he could take. Mary wouldn't let this go without understanding the situation. So, he opened the book and swiftly skimmed through the pages until he reached the end of chapter one. Drawing nearer to her, he clutched the book tightly, yet close enough for her to read the exact words he had just moments ago. With each passing moment, Arthur sensed his pain morphing into an overwhelming anger. Dutch had preached about betrayal, accusing him and John of such transgressions... but this... this was an unparalleled act of betrayal on Dutch's behalf.

Once he knew she was finished reading he knew she wasn't going to like what he had to say next. 

" I can't let this stand Mary. I simply cannot .. "

Throughout all those years, he believed that an unknown individual had stolen a small sum of money from Eliza and Isaac and callously ended both of their lives. Not a single trace had been left behind, preventing him from seeking justice for his son's demise. However, that has changed now. He knew the identity of the responsible party, and they would have to face the consequences of their actions.

" Please try to understand... "

Mary instantly took notice of the redness in Arthur's eyes. Her throat tightened, and her stomach twisted in a knot. She clutched the satchel of her purse as if her life depended on it. Something was wrong, but she didn't want to alarm Jack. Rarely did she ever see Arthur look so defeated and broken. Even when the two of them had their troubles in their relationship, he didn't look so shattered like he did now, as if his world was completely destroyed. She was frightened, but couldn't allow her face to show it. Right now, she had to be the strong one between the two of them.

"Arthur, I must speak to you for a moment first," Mary insisted gently. Before anyone could argue, she instructed Jack to put his books on the counter. "I promise we will get your books before we leave. I simply must talk to your uncle. Find another book to read in the meantime."

Jack was hesitant at first, but went along with what his aunt told him to do. If it meant more time to check out other books, so be it! With a cheeky grin, the boy scampered off back into the children's section of the store.

With her attention back to Arthur, Mary insisted he do the same. Books down, so he could have her full attention.

The bookseller awkwardly excused himself from the counter and mumbled about dusting books in another part of the store, more or less giving the couple the privacy they need without leaving the store. If it eventually meant a sale in the end, he'd cater to their every whim.

Gripping Arthur's arms while peering into his eyes, Mary implored him to tell her what was wrong. After all, were they not husband and wife? For better and for worse, they would weather through any storm they'd encounter together.

"Please, don't hide anything from me. What happened…?"

[beloyaltowhatmatters]

Arthur, with a furrowed brow and steady focus, continued to occupy himself with the pile of books before him. The grip on the book given by Jack tightened, and before long, he found himself instinctively pulling it back up to examine it once more. It was odd how a mere book could stir up such intense emotions within him. After a brief moment, he mustered the courage to open it for the first time, and there it was. Dutch's name was written on the inside cover in his own handwriting. With a bewildered expression, he scanned the bookstore, then returned his gaze to the book. How did this establishment come to possess one of Dutch's personal books? Those books were always by his side, wherever he went. Dutch's books held as much significance to him as Arthur's journal did to him.

Leaning against the shelf for support, he started flipping through the pages, one by one. Occasionally, he stumbled upon small notes Dutch had scribbled in the margins. Selecting certain words and phrases from the paragraphs, he added his own thoughts. As he delved further into the book, he couldn't shake the feeling of that old connection with Dutch, as if their minds were entwined through the inked words on those pages. Arthur was now completely lost in the reading of American Eden. It felt surreal that he could almost hear Dutch's voice with every word he read.

Chapter one came to an end, with only half of the page used for the conclusion. The remaining half was filled with Dutch's writing. When he saw the names Eliza and Issac, he quickly took a seat.

Today was a sorrowful day as I witnessed my son burying his own son, Issac. I hope that one day I can find forgiveness for myself, for the act of killing that boy and his mother, Eliza. I desperately believed it was necessary to protect our family to keep them strong, without any distractions. Unable to confide in anyone, I must place my thoughts in these books as a way to release my deepest secrets and emotions onto their pages .....

Arthur's eyes welled up with tears as he read the words on the page. He couldn't believe what he had just discovered. Closing the book abruptly, he realized that the person responsible for Eliza and his son's fate was none other than Dutch himself. Despite spending years with him, Arthur never suspected... He couldn't even bring himself to finish that thought, his hand rising to cover his mouth as a tear broke from his eyes and streamed down his chin.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of Jack's voice and the sight of two books placed next to him. Swiftly, he tilted his head and brushed away the tears. After clearing his throat he made an effort to regain control of his emotions - or at least as much as he could. " I knew you would find a few more. It's fortunate that Mary and I can bring you down here whenever you need more books. " Arthur stood up from the table and picked up Dutch's book, along with the three books Jack had found. " I believe we have everythin' we need. It's about time be head home now. " They found Mary at the front of the store. His face looked different from when they had arrived, with glossy red eyes. " I'll just take care of these and then we can leave. "

Mary leafed through an issue of "Vogue" magazine. There was no question that she was picking up the last few months copies worth for herself and Abigail. While the magazine itself was mainly focused on social affairs for male readers, it always had a nice selection of fashion photos featuring women wearing gorgeous dresses from America and Europe. Even if such outfits didn't suit Abigail or Mary's tastes, they were pictures to admire and comment on. Girls could dream, couldn't they?

Mary took a moment to make sure that her earlier purchase, a leather-bound journal for Arthur's birthday, was tucked away in her purse, was secured. She bought it when her husband went off to go after Jack. It even came with a fine pen. She had a feeling she'd be visiting this place quite often.

Jack's eyes darted about in excitement as he was given the option of getting at least two more books. How could he turn that down? With a skip to his step, the boy wandered back to the children's section, and happily searched through the many titles on display. There were a number of them he remembered Uncle Hosea reading him when he was a small child. "King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table" was one of his all-time favorite stories, and it led to him to using the nickname "Lancelot" during certain situations.

Eventually, he picked two books, both by the same author, and made his way back to Arthur.

"Here you go," Jack said as he presented Mark Twain's, "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer," and "Adventures of Huckleberry Finn." "I've always wanted to read them, Uncle Arthur, but never could find a bookstore nowhere near 'round these parts, and you know how Ma and Pa are about ordering from catalogs if it isn't necessary for the ranch."

[beloyaltowhatmatters]

There was nothing like a brush of death that could make some mature rather quickly. He recognized that consistently stirring the pot merely resulted in avoidable disputes and strain. Plus, Karen played a pivotal part in altering his outlook. The impact she had on him, prompted him to reevaluate his existence. She provided him with a necessary jolt of reality. Wasn't being present on this ranch, alongside the rest of the collective, precisely the life they had all been seeking? The very life that Dutch had promised to them?

Growing up the only family Sean ever had was his father and he lost him when those British bastards tracked them down and killed him in his bed like rabid dogs. It wasn't long after that when he ran into Dutch and Hosea up in North Elizabeth and tried stealing Dutch's pocket watch. The thought made him chuckle under his breath. For a while, he thought he had found a place to call home but something never really set right with him. While Sean tried to convince those around him that he was extremely intelligent, that wasn't exactly the case, but even he knew a slipping man when he saw one. This place here with those who had seen what he had was as close to family as he imagined he would ever have. Despite the lingering doubts, Sean couldn't deny the sense of belonging and acceptance he felt among these kindred spirits.

" Right, de same can be said for ye. "  Charles was not one to tolerate anyone's nonsense. He had personally witnessed Charles knocking Micah down for what he perceived as an insult. It spoke volumes on its own that Charles hadn't stayed back with the others. Many people had been lost in a short period of time, and Arthur, Charles, and everyone else knew who was responsible for the chaos. Finally, Sean took a sip of his beer and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. The chaotic situation was now in the past, and hopefully, it would stay there.

" 'ave to admit it ain't easy livin' the 'onest life. Guess it's like Arthur always said .. you can't live a bad life an' have gran' things 'appen to ye. We got no troubles 'ere. Lawmen ain't lookin' for us. Don't think it was us they ever really wanted. Dutch was the one they was after, just glad sum of us made it out of dare before Micah led dem straight to us. "

Without doubt, this was the longest conversation Charles ever had with Sean - one he was willing to partake in. The boy was not only insightful, he actually made sense. Charles still couldn't believe this was the same Sean MacGuire who, not even a year ago, had to pester Arthur and John to join them on random jobs like an annoying little tag-along brother. The dissolution of the gang apparently helped Sean mature, open his eyes, and allowed him growth - from what Charles could gather. This was rather promising.

Charles accepted the beer from Sean and thanked him. Much like him, he wasn't one for dying. His stance on life hadn't changed since he left his alcoholic father during his youth. He was tired of running and having to constantly look over his shoulder. All he wanted was stability, to find a place to call "home," and he thought he'd found that with the gang. The first version of the gang had promise (or so he was led to believe), but now that he found THIS version, this one was the one he preferred the most.

"You've proven yourself as much of a survivor," Charles agreed after taking that first, welcoming swig of his beer. He gave the Irishman credit for having stuck around, proving his loyalty to those who truly cared about what mattered most.

The location of the ranch was ideal, and not too close to any major cities or towns. Once Dutch's plans fell apart, they had gone further into civilization, instead of going away from it, allowing more people to recognize them. The ranch's distance would give everyone here a chance to start over, and with time, maybe the memories of their crimes would fade from other folks' minds so long as they kept low profiles.

[beloyaltowhatmatters]

Arthur had to get himself out of the camp, like always, Dutch had this brilliant idea of busting Micah out of jail and wanted him to do it. It's not like he had enough on his plate already. He has to deal with all the other gang members' nonsense, all the while trying to keep everyone alive and well. And now he’s expected to save Micah? The guy who's caused so many damn problems in the first place? It's beyond infuriating. But oh, let's not forget about how Dutch conveniently distances himself from any responsibility. It seemed like everyone in this godforsaken camp expected him to do their dirty work without a second thought.

Arthur needed some time to clear his head away from all the constant distractions. Dutch was crazy if he thought Micah would come for him if the situation was reversed. Micah didn't give a damn about anyone but himself and Etta. He made that good and clear on several occasions and yet Dutch still blindly stood behind. Nothing he could say or do could change Dutch's mind so what else could he do than bust Micah from the jail in Strawberry? What was one more target on their backs? He didn't like this, not one damn bit.

He was only gone for an hour or so when he returned to camp to see Etta looking in his direction. How utterly thrilling! Truly, there were no words that could capture the sarcasm dripping from every pore regarding this earth-shaking encounter he knew was about to take place. 

" Etta .. " Arthur greeted back before folding arms across his chest. Of course, she needed a favor and his guess was it had to do with Micah and the fact he wasn't moving quickly enough. What were a few more hours going to hurt? Might teach him to think a little more before reacting. Nope, there was no hope for Micah there. Micah's impulsive nature always seemed to get the best of him, leading to countless regrets on the group's behalf.

" You must think I'm a fool. There is absolutely no chance you will be accompanying me. " He was aware dealing with Micah alone would be a challenging task. He has personally witnessed the havoc those two can wreak when they are in each other's company. " I genuinely hope so. I hope for him to be as unhappy as a tick on a lifeless canine. "

Arthur made his way towards his tent, thinking to himself that those two individuals were exceptionally deceitful. Before embarking on this foolish endeavor, he had a few essential items to gather. Throughout the process, he couldn't escape the relentless pursuit of Etta. To make matters worse, Dutch's intense gaze seemed to penetrate his very soul. As he collected his belongings, an unsettling sensation grew within him, hinting that this mission was bound to veer off course in an unforeseen manner.

Finally, he turned back to face Etta. " If you're set on coming along you do what I say when I say and how I say it. This goes my way or it ceases here before it even begins. We clear on this? "

for @beloyaltowhatmatters (Arthur)

For years, Etta prided herself as a woman who didn't rely on a man to survive. These days were different, as she traveled in a gang that consisted of mostly men, with a small collection of women, and a child. One man, in particular, captivated her attention in more ways than one, and it didn't take long for the two of them to become close. They were close enough to where, when he'd gone missing for far too long, she grew concerned. She tried not to show it, keeping her usual icy demeanor about her, but when Lenny returned, and revealed what happened to him and Micah at Strawberry, Etta's heart sank to the pit of her stomach. The thought of losing the one man whose guile equaled her own, and had as many morals as she, didn't set right with her. They were practically partners in every way without involving the church.

She insisted on going to Strawberry alone, but Dutch wouldn't have it. He asked Arthur to go see to it instead, which irritated Etta, because she knew he wouldn't go right away. Knowing him, he'd take his sweet time about it, given his history with Micah. Just thinking about what Micah was going through with those horrible lawmen made her sick to her stomach, but it also made her more determined to rescue him.

She waited until Arthur came back from his latest outing. When nobody else in the camp was pestering him with requests or wanting to chit-chat with him, she made her approach. Out of everyone in the group, she was one of the few who rarely went to him for anything - except now.

"Mr. Morgan," Etta greeted collectedly. "I need a favor."

Without even waiting for Arthur to say anything back, she went on to say, "I will go with you to rescue Mr. Bell from Strawberry. It'll be quicker with two of us. Come on, let's not waste time. He must be miserable over there in that mountain dump of a town!"

[beloyaltowhatmatters]

Sucks, Don't It? The Moment You Realize You Don't Know Shit - A multimuse blog dedicated to various canon characters from The Walking Dead, Game Of Thrones, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, The Vampire Diaries/The Originals, True Blood, and Supernatural. 21+ only. Please read my rules before following.

[beloyaltowhatmatters]

Abigail couldn't believe that after all this time Micah was still able to ruin such a moment she and John were sharing. Then again seeing Micah's face was enough to ruin even a wet dream. Sure she had her fair share of partners in bed back in the day but even she had standards. The thought almost made her feel a little sorry for Etta but then again monsters of a feather flocked together. While they may have ruined their plans in town that wasn't going to stop them from fulfilling the rest of the plans they had for the day. Nope, not even Micah Bell could ruin that for her.

Once the wagon began to move Abigail took one last look behind her before inching over close to sit next to John. She never really stopped to think about it until now but since the split of the gang, no one including herself ever talked about it. Maybe they all just thought it was water under the bridge or maybe out of sight out of mind. But she thought about it now. Just seeing him didn't sit right with her. Not even she would think Dutch low enough to come after them because of how close they all once were. Micah on the other hand was a different story and god knows Micah had his claws dip in Dutch when they all split.

After a few moments of silence, she finally looked over at her husband and spoke. " Sorry about back there. Just sometimes I still get that odd feeling of being in Blackwater after everything. Makes me nervous, ya know? " She was trying to ease John's mind cause she knew he had picked up on something being off with her. " You ever regret the choices we made to leave? " It was a silly question and she knew that but she still had to ask. " I don't. I think about what we had then and what we have now. How we don't have to keep moving from place to place. How we got a place we can actually call home now. I think what we did was a good thing. The right thing. What we got now is what family should have always been about. " She just wanted to hear those same things come from John.

That kiss almost made Micah forget about what was going on. Though as soon as her lips parted his it snapped right back to him like a whip. Etta had a good point. If they were traveling by wagon they weren't far away.

His eyes scatted over Etta as she turned to walk away from him. Even in that damn oversized, puffy dress, he could still see the curves of her body perfectly. A grumble rose inside his chest cause to hell with John Marston and Arthur Morgan. All he wanted to do right now was violate that body, but he knew just how worked up this news would get Dutch. The old man would be beside himself. Of course, Annabelle would help calm him down, that's if she could even remember half of what was going on. Micah's job wasn't over yet. Not until he fully used Dutch and the remanding part of the gang to get what he and Etta wanted.

" Let them keep on the trail. We'll follow them way over by the river so we won't be spotted. " Micah announced as he mounted Baylock and took them on a shortcut through Blackwater. They would trail the couple from the west end. " You know, Angel, if it wasn't for attracting attention I'd have you bare on that horse right now. " Micah snickered as she rode alongside Etta.

Despite how violent and trigger-happy John Marston could be, he was rarely audacious when it came to the bedroom. He hadn't had as many partners as Abigail, and he was a simple man who knew what he liked without having to do anything wild or crazy. Back then, he wasn't looking for romance. But with Abigail, he obviously wanted to make her happy, and he wanted to be a better man for her every day: a better husband and father for their son. His greatest fear was letting her down, because he'd done that one too many times before.

Seeing as how her nerves were still on end, John decided it would be best if they simply head on home. For whatever reason, Abigail was simply shaken up about staying in town longer than necessary. They could be in the safety of their house, with the windows and doors shut, and not worry about anyone or anything. He wouldn't pester her further.

Once they were both settled on the wagon, John took the reins in hand, and urged the horses to trot forward.

Within Blackwater, Etta crossed her arms over her ample bosoms as she stood alongside Micah in discontent. She remembered the constant bickering and arguing between John and Abigail years ago at camp. Etta couldn't care less about their relationship, or what a shit-for-brains father John was to his child. Seeing them now so lovey-dovey made her want to throw up.

Turning her focus to someone more pleasing to the eye, Etta brought her hands up to cup both sides of Micah's face. Though she missed his thicker mustache, she couldn't think of a more manly man than the one standing before her. She hoisted herself on tiptoes, and pressed her lips upon his, kissing him, tasting a hint of cigarette and whiskey, before lower herself. As much as she wanted more of him, it was back to business. Pleasure could come later if all went well.

"They won't be far if they're this stupid to live so close," Etta stated, as she turned around, her dress gown swooshing around her ankles, and made way to where their horses were at.

[beloyaltowhatmatters]

@achanceofforgiveness asked:

"I do love seeing the way you get under Mr. Morgan's skin. He tries to act all tough, but I can see how you easily irritate him the most. Out of everyone in camp, you're the one that can rile him up without having to say or do much. It excites me in the most unlady-like fashion, Mr, Bell." (Etta)

" Is that right, Angel? " Micah found himself shifting on the bench he was sitting on. None of the women here at camp could hold a candle to the fiery Vixen in front of him. Though he couldn't help but chuckle at her first remarks. " That's because I'm the only one who knows how to push his buttons. The truth of the matter is it drives him crazy that he ain't daddy's right-hand man no more. " Micah boasted over that fact. He hadn't been with the group anywhere the amount of time Arthur or John had and yet it was he Dutch now came to when it came to planning or when it came to getting advice on what moves they should make next. It ate Arthur up from the inside out and Micah enjoyed every second of it.

Reaching out he took Etta by the hand and pulled her close against him. His hand then moved to rest on her lip. " You know what it does to me when you're all unladylike. " The corner of his lips curved into a wicked smile. " From the looks of things I don't have to say or do much to get you all riled up either. " A snicker parted his lips. If it weren't for pissing Dutch off he would take Etta right now to Arthur's tent and violate her in every way possible inside that tent just to add gasoline to the ever-burning fire that was Arthur Morgan.