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garyofrivia · 6 years ago

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For They Shall Be Satisfied

Arthur Morgan x OC Chapter 3

(masterlist in bio)

A/N: yeehaw, some soft moments finally!! more where that came from hehe ;;))

Warnings/Categories: Violence, Angst

(WC: 4,356)

Back at camp, things were more lively than usual. The night before, the girls were in town working the saloon so they hadn’t had a chance to celebrate the success of the caravan robbery. Hosea and Pearson had brought in a wagonload full of beer and whiskey and they all had plans to get drunk out of their minds.

Annie had done her best to avoid Dutch when Arthur went to go talk with him and Hosea. She didn’t have the capacity to deal with any more politics that day, Dutch’s mind games included, and elected to go pass out for a few hours to make up for not sleeping the night before. It helped some, but she feared that the heavy feeling of her anxiety wouldn’t be put to rest by anything other than alcohol.

“You better slow down there,” Tilly said as Annie ravenously shoveled another spoonful of stew into her mouth. The pair of them were eating at the poker table and she realized that this was her first full meal in three days. “You might end up eatin’ the bowl!”

“So be it,” Annie said, chewing loudly.

“Good Lord, you’re no better than the men, Annie!” she said as she laughed and made a face.

“That’s not news, my friend. How’ve things been?”

“They’re better. Karen’s pleased that we’ll all be drinkin’ tonight since she won’t be the only one.”

“I’d imagine so,” Annie said. Mary-Beth and Karen took a seat next to them at the table, giggling and chatting between themselves.

“How are ya, Annie?” Mary-Beth asked in a sing-song voice as she ripped a chunk of bread into four parts to share with the rest of them.

“Never better. You’re a ray of sunshine today.”

Mary-Beth grinned. “I got this new journal in town yesterday. It has a pretty white leather binding and a clasp and everything!”

Annie smiled at her. “Sounds nice, I’m glad for you.”

“I told her she’d better not get too distracted or ole Grimshaw’s gonna throw it in the campfire,” Karen said.

They all tried not to make eye contact with Susan from across camp as they laughed. “You’re not kiddin’,” Tilly said.

“I’m upset I missed out on killin’ them O’Driscolls yesterday,” Karen said to Annie with a fascinated tone in her voice. “Sean told me you dropped ten of the bastards yourself!”

Annie shook her head and smirked. “Nah, only six.”

“Six! Now, that sounds like a party!”

“How are things around here?” Annie said, changing the subject.

“They’re fine, no thanks to you. You, missy, are lucky Miss Grimshaw’s been cuttin’ us all some slack with the chores as of recently. I’m not entirely sure why, but hey, I’m not complainin’.”

“I think she’s been gettin’… ya know… relieved of stress.” Mary-Beth said, low enough so that only the they could hear.

“Mary-Beth!” Tilly gasped. “No, there’s no way.”

Karen cackled hysterically. “Yes, there is no way.”

“I’m serious! Think about it. She’s spent an awful lot of time in Blackwater the past few days.”

Annie swallowed a stew-soaked bite of bread and chuckled. “Oh, if only life were as simple as those romance stories you read, Mary-Beth.”

“A girl can dream.”

Letting her mind wander away from the conversation, Annie looked out at all the familiar faces, friendly and unfriendly. Lenny, Charles, Swanson, Uncle, the Callander brothers, and Javier were all gathered around Sean at the campfire laughing hysterically at whatever story he was telling. Hosea and Arthur were standing at the opening of Dutch’s tent with Molly just inside, all having a quiet drink and smiling together. Micah and Bill were trash talking each other at the five-finger-fillet table and it was starting to get heated. Susan and Strauss were sitting peacefully near the medicine wagon, looking off over the ridge and the river. Abigail was playing with Jack near their tent, John just a few feet away watching them with sad eyes. The pair of them had just finished arguing about god knows what, but a few words thrown at John from Arthur ended it quicker than it started.

For a moment, it suddenly occurred to her what it all meant- and what it would really mean to lose all of it. If the bank shipment robbery was a success, that’d everything she needed to disappear and start over on her own. The thought made her stomach churn.

“Annie?” Karen’s voice snapped her back to reality.

The three girls at the table had a rare warmness about them. Their soft, carefree faces gave her he reminder she needed to put aside her troubles for the time being. It was not the night to think about what would be lost. That night would come soon enough.

“Want another drink? I was about to get a round for us.”

She smiled. “Sure, thanks, Karen.”

Soon enough, everyone was dancing, laughing, and talking around the big campfire. Hosea told one of his tall tales about his journeys out west. Dutch eventually put on his phonograph when everyone’d had plenty to drink. Arthur was even dancing with Karen and although he was terrible, swinging her all sorts of directions and swaying entirely off beat, she seemed to be enjoying it.

“My lady,” a lively voice broke through Annie’s mild buzz. Hosea held out a hand for her, inviting her to join the party instead of just observe it. “May I have this dance?”

“Why, yes sir, you may,” she said with a wide grin. She tossed her hat on her chair as he led her to a clear spot.

He led well and even flourished her a bit, careful to keep it subtle so she didn't feel like she was embarrassing herself. Though, to her dismay, she stumbled on a loose rock which prompted a comment about how she was better with using gun than she was with using her own two feet. She hadn’t seen him laugh this much in a long time. Since Bessie died, he’d grown a bit distant and bitter, but he never lost his wit. It was nice to see the rare occasion where he was enjoying himself.

“Have you given any thought to what we talked about?” he said, still smiling.

“I-, um, yeah. A bit,” she said, looking down to watch their feet move in sync.

“Good. Don’t worry, we don’t have to talk about it. You seemed… deep in thought earlier. I just hope that wasn’t my doing.”

“No, just today was a bit…”

“Chaotic?”

She chuckled. “Yes. To say the least.”

“Arthur told Dutch and I about the girl and the O’Driscolls. And that fella Benson. Why is it always the smooth talkin’, city-folk that are so slippery? Trelawny is the same way. More myth than man.”

“It’s not just city folk, it’s mountain men, too. And prairie girls. Let us not forget what you and I do.”

“Oh, I’d never,” Hosea said, laughing. “It takes one to know one, that’s for sure.”

Annie noticed that Sean had cut in to dance with Karen and Arthur was seated on a crate near Pearson’s wagon, whiskey in hand.

Hosea winked at her and called out to him. “Arthur! Get over here and take over, my back is killing me.”

“I’m good, Hosea,” Arthur said, smiling and raising his hands in defeat.

“You’re going to abandon a lady just like that, then?”

“Fine, fine, I’m comin’.” He reluctantly set his drink down and walked over to the pair of them.

“Thank you for a lovely dance, Miss Bolton,” Hosea said, bowing as he spoke. “I fear I must retire myself for this young fella here.”

“You were the one that called me over.”

“It’s fine if you want to cut in Arthur,” Annie nudged.

Arthur rolled his eyes and shooed Hosea away with a flick of his hand. “Get outta here, old man.”

“You kids and your entitled attitudes!” Hosea teased as he slinked off to get another drink for himself. “Got no respect for your elders!”

Arthur took over for Hosea, his strong, calloused hands replacing Hosea’s warm, weathered ones. He seemed a bit uncomfortable which made Annie blush slightly, but he eased into her stride. They were standing close enough for her to feel his breath on her neck, sending a chill down her spine. Neither of them enjoyed physical closeness, but for Annie, it never felt uncomfortable when it was with Arthur for some reason. She briefly wondered if he felt the same.

“How are you doin’?” he finally asked, breaking a silence she didn’t even realize was there before.

“Better, now that I’ve had a few beers.”

“Ain’t that how it always goes?”

“Indeed it is. He seems to be enjoying himself,” she said, nodding towards a seemingly very drunk Pearson who was dancing by himself, completely out of time with his arms outstretched as if he was holding a partner.

“That’s the most he’s gotten in months,” Arthur said, giggling like a kid.

She grinned at his goofy laugh and gave him a look of surprise. “Mister Morgan, are you drunk?”

“I think I may be gettin’ there, Miss Bolton.”

As she laughed, she looked into his soft, ocean colored eyes. They glistened with the light of the fire, like a sunset over a lake. “I’m not.”

“Well, then why the hell are we dancin’? Let’s get some whiskey in you.” He took her hand and led her over near Pearson’s wagon and handed her a small bottle of liquor from the box. “Drink up.”

She took a few large gulps which an impressed eyebrow raise from Arthur. He pulled up a second stool and they both sank into their seats, silently agreeing to keep all future partner dancing to a minimum.

“Cheers,” Arthur said and they they clinked their bottles together. “So, Dutch says he wants to go for the Benson job. Hosea on the other hand wasn’t too excited for it when I told him how things went down.”

She glanced at him for a hint of an expression, but his face was unchanged. “Did you actually tell them how it went?”

“Yes, I did. Hey, you had the opportunity to be there if you wanted to. But you have... other plans."

She furrowed her eyebrows, giving him a look that half asked him to keep quiet while in the middle of camp and the other asking him if he was still angry about her plan to leave.

He laughed lightly. "Relax, I won't get on you for that no more. Well, not tonight, anyways."

She sighed and shook her head. “It’s just a bad idea.”

“I agree, but we need the money. There’ll be close to a hundred thousand dollars on that shipment. Half that is a good take for us. Better than good.”

“Yeah, well…”

She couldn’t argue with him there, though she doubted this would be the end of that conversation. If it ended up being a trap, she figured they’d likely been in worse situations before. Hopefully, it’d be nothing they couldn’t handle.

She took in the sounds of the party for a moment- the laughing, singing, Javier’s guitar now playing instead of the phonograph. It felt like Christmas.

“Hey, Arthur,” she said, suddenly feeling the liquor creeping up on her. “What’s the best Christmas gift you ever got?”

“What?”

“Christmas! Don’t tell me you’ve never gotten a Christmas present before.”

“I have.”

“Well, what was it then?”

He thought for a moment. “Well, my pa and I rarely ever did anything like that. Dutch bought me my first horse, though. I suppose that’s somethin’.”

“Shit, a horse?”

“Yup. Buttercup. I was sixteen and still couldn’t come up with a better name for a palomino pony than that.” He chuckled at the thought.

She shrugged. “It’s a nice name.”

“What about you?”

“Huh?”

“What was the best gift you ever got for Christmas?”

“Hmm. The gift of friendship!”

He rolled his eyes. “No, no, I told you, now you gotta tell me.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, the stress from recent events, or a combination of the two, but she started speaking before she knew what it was that came over her.

“My daddy gave me a bracelet a long time ago. And my mama got me the matching necklace. They weren’t nothin’ expensive. I suppose it was all they could do.”

Arthur nodded and hummed softly, carefully taking in her words.

“I lost the pieces within a week, of course. Though, I sure wish I hadn’t.”

He paused for a moment, thoughtfully. “It’s funny, lookin’ back at things like that. You never know, in the moment, which things’ll have fond memories attached and which things just sorta... fade away.”

Remembering the flower on his bedside table next to the portrait of his mother, she knew he understood. The man beside her had known pain just as she had, or at least had known loss. For some reason it was a difficult thought, to know he’s lost so much, too. She almost wanted to push back the hair that had fallen over his forehead and ask about his life before Dutch and the outlaw life that didn’t really make sense anymore. About what his mother was like, or what his son was like- what everything was like for him back then. But a different question came to mind.

“What happens when all this is done with?” She asked suddenly. “Everything with the robbin’ and the killin’? If that job pulls through, that could be it.”

He sighed and looked to the stars twinkling overhead. “I haven’t really thought about that.”

Annie tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes, you have.”

“Sure, but it’s all just in theory. No use in gettin’ anyone’s hopes up in case this ends up not workin’ out.”

“Then what do you hope for? Ideally?”

“I don’t know. To just live, I guess. Get a ranch like Dutch says. Free of the law and all the gangs tryina chase us. Maybe somewhere in the mountains out west. Those sunsets are incredible.”

Annie nodded, her vision slightly blurring with the movement, and she realized how truly intoxicated she was. “Well, that sure is somethin’, ain’t it?”

“What about you? You seem to have everything figured out.”

“I guess, I just hope I die old.”

Arthur laughed. “That’s it?”

“Sure. Folks don’t make a habit of livin’ very long in this line of work. I just wanna turn gray and wrinkly and fragile and die at home in my bed knowin’ that I did everything I could. What else is there, in the end?”

“I guess you have a point.”

“I always have a point, Arthur Morgan.”

She stood and started off go join the party again as the first of the drinking games commenced. But something in her paused, mid-stride. She turned to look back at Arthur as he watched her leave.

Smiling warmly and with a sincerity that hadn’t shown itself in a long time, she held his gaze. “I hope you get your mountain ranch.”

***

The morale boost that the party had faded quickly and Annie fell back into her routine of feeding the horses, cleaning guns, and hunting for camp, her low mood returning with the responsibility along with everyone else's. Talk of a new job had spurred impatience and restlessness. Maybe it was the dry air or the simple, lonesome town of Blackwater, but everyone seemed bored out of their minds.

Dutch sent Arthur to meet with Benson to give him an answer at the scheduled time and place and they were given three days to prepare until the convoy was set to arrive. Hosea was the one that had the idea to verify that there was a legitimate delivery. Karen volunteered to sweet talk the bank manager and sure enough, he confirmed it.

“He said that it’s more security on that those coaches than anything he’s ever heard of,” she told them.

Hosea rubbed his chin in thought but Dutch didn’t look worried. “We’ll have that diversion from Benson’s side. It shouldn’t be a problem, we’ve dealt with plenty of escorts before.”

“What exactly is the diversion?” Annie asked.

“He said he was still figurin’ out a few of the minor details, and that was apparently one of ‘em,” Arthur said.

“The diversion isn’t a minor detail,” she said. “It’s the one thing in this plan that’ll help it to not be a complete disaster.”

“I’d suggest we have a backup plan then,” Dutch said, a bit too harshly. “You’re so fond of coming up with those, so it shouldn’t be nothin’ that we need to worry about.”

“She’s right, Dutch,” Hosea said.

Annie looked between Dutch and Arthur expectantly, but neither said anything. The four of them, John, and Karen were gathered around Dutch’s tent. He was in a bad mood for some ungodly reason, so the conversation was a bit more difficult than it usually was.

“I know she’s right, Hosea, thank you,” Dutch snapped.

“Why don’t we do this another time?” John said, hoping to lighten the mood.

“We don’t have time, dumbass,” Arthur said.

“We’ll have a plan,” Dutch said. “Because Hosea and Annie are gonna handle this. Figure it out. Now, I have a few other things to attend to if you lot will kindly get the hell out of my tent.”

Annie rolled her eyes and looked to Hosea to say something. He sucked his teeth and looked up to meet her eyes. “We’ll take care of it, Dutch.”

Karen gave Annie a look of annoyance and snuck away from the rest of them as they headed towards the game table. Hosea spread out a map of the area with the delivery route traced by Benson.

“Here’s all we have. They want it to take place here,” he said, pointing to a spot a few miles north of Blackwater.

“Is no one gonna talk about Dutch?” John interjected.

“There’s nothin’ to talk about,” Arthur said a bit too quickly.

“Why’s he in one of his moods?”

“I don’t know, let it go.”

John looked up at Annie for a response but was only met with an icy glare. He sighed and leaned back in his seat. “Alright.”

“What if we made our own diversion if they end up not comin’ through for us?” Arthur said.

“Why would they not come through with their end of the deal?” Annie droned. She had given up on trying to hide her frustration. “It’d give us a window to grab all the money, not just fifty percent. The trap would never be in the shipment or the ambush. If anything it’d be in the escape. A setup so they can take all the cash and then set the law on us for the bounty money. And they’d be sittin’ mighty pretty on that mountain of gold.”

Arthur leaned toward her, folding his hands on the table. Annie remained slouched with her arms crossed. “Did it occur to you to share that before now?”

“It didn’t come up before now,” she shrugged. “We don’t even know who these fools are, I told you my piece from the beginning.”

“I agree with you, but that don’t matter. We just gotta do what we gotta do.”

“And walk right into a trap is what we gotta do, then? Like we’re fuckin’ blind?”

“Can we focus on this and get at least some semblance of a plan so we can tell that pinhead over there something?” Hosea insisted. “You three can squabble about this later. If we plan for the worst, we’ll be prepared for the worst. It’s simple, really.”

Arthur and John nodded reluctantly and Annie decided to swallow her pride, at least for the moment. She turned her attention to the map and began running the scenarios through in her head, talking aloud as she thought it through.

“If the diversion doesn’t happen, though I’m bettin’ it will, we don’t move on it, simple as that,” she said. “Every move we make has to have some kinda signal. We split into three groups around the ambush point, two here and one here. One rider from each group hangs back to keep watch while the rest go in for the take. If they see somethin’ they’ll signal and we abort immediately. If it ends up bein’ clear all the way through, we secure our half before we make our getaway.”

“What if it’s just a bounty setup and it’s a bunch of lawmen expectin’ us?” John asked, making Arthur roll his eyes.

Annie scoffed. “Then we all die in a blaze of glory, I guess.”

Hosea sighed and shook his head. “Dutch thinks it’s a risk we need to take.”

“To hell with what Dutch thinks,” she blurted out before she realized what she was saying. Arthur and John stared at her and she couldn’t tell if they were surprised or angry. “I didn’t mean… All I’m sayin’ is… it’s a stupid idea. We shouldn’t just do it because Dutch says so.”

Arthur’s jaw tightened and his nostrils flared. Yep, he’s mad.

“Annie...” Hosea warned.

She paused for a moment and looked between the three of them, anger rising in her chest. Hosea was tense, Arthur angry, and John clearly exasperated.

“What’s your deal?” Arthur asked, shaking his head in frustration.

She huffed an shifted in her seat. “Nothin’, I guess.”

“Annie, you can take a minute to cool off,” Hosea said, calmly. “We can come back to this later.”

“Yeah, let’s waste precious time while we let everyone take a personal day,” Arthur muttered. “Wonderful idea.”

“C’mon, just calm down,” John pleaded. “Nothin’s gonna get done if we’re all at each other’s throats.”

“Shut up, Marston,” Arthur snapped. “You’re the one to lecture about ‘teamwork’, are you?”

Annie couldn’t take it anymore. Without a word, she jumped to her feet and stormed away from the table, nearly knocking her chair over in the process. It took all she had to not pummel Sean when he accidentally got in her way. She grabbed a carton of cigarettes and matches from her things and strode over to go sit on a log near the river. With shaky hands, she lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and plopped down on the dead slab of wood.

There were so many other ways to earn money, ways that didn’t involve trusting a conman. It didn’t make sense why Dutch was so adamant about this. Hosea tries his best, but even he can’t keep everyone’s ducks in a row all the time, though how could anyone? John was trying to be better, which she’d give him credit for, but Arthur was just… being Arthur. The angry son of a bitch that wouldn’t let up on the “loyalty” trip, even for a moment. They all sure argued like family and if nothing else, it was like living in a goddamn zoo.

“I know you’re upset,” a voice said from behind her.

Dutch’s sudden presence was surprising but she didn’t care to turn to face him. “Call it off, Dutch.”

She heard him sigh and he took a seat next to her on the log. “You’ve been right more often than you’ve been wrong, Annie, I will admit that. All I’m asking is for you to outsmart ‘em. You’ve done it before, with less.”

“Dutch…”

He looked sad. Desperate, almost. She suddenly couldn’t bring herself to argue with him.

He peered at her with tired, soulful eyes, thinking for a moment before he spoke again. “I met this man, Andrew Crawford, a few months ago. He told me to contact him if we even ran into a situation where we needed the law off our backs. When things got bad out west, I told him we needed his help and we’d be out near Blackwater. So he wrote me and said he’d come, asking to send someone to meet him to discuss the details. And well, you know the rest. I just… want this to be our final ticket outta here. It’s all we got left to do!”

She nodded her understanding. He was doing what thought he needed to keep the gang safe. That, she understood. She just had her own version of it. Dutch wasn’t a bad man, she knew that much. But his judgement had been misguided recently. Hosea sometimes couldn’t even get through to him.

“What would they do clear our names?”

“From my understanding, whoever he works for is close with the Marshal Service. They have a few boys that they pay off to do their bidding.”

“Why’d you use a fake name, then?”

He shrugged. “I had suspicions about the legitimacy of his offer, same as you. That’s why I sent Arthur and you to go verify that he was who he said he was. I need you to understand, Annie, my girl. I’m not doin’ this for the money. This could be it for us! We’d be free! If it’s a setup, so be it. We got a whole lot to gain and next to nothin’ left to lose. You get me?”

We got our lives to lose, she wanted to say. She exhaled another long stream of smoke. “I get you, Dutch.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, clapping a hand on her back.

“Did somethin’ happen this morning? With Molly? I saw she’s not in camp.”

Dutch sighed. “She told me she wanted to ‘go off and enjoy herself’, whatever the hell that means. Think she went to the saloon to quench that Irish thirst of hers. Now, I mean no offense by this, but women can be… well, you know.”

Annie chuckled. “I do?”

“Let me just say- love is a bumpy road. But if ya don’t get on the wagon, you can’t get thrown off.”

“I don’t think I know what the hell you’re talkin’ about.”

He laughed and and patted her shoulder once more. “I pray you never do, my dear.”

He left her alone with her thoughts, and once again, she wasn’t sure what to think about anything.

#rdr 2 fic #rdr 2 fanfic #red dead redemption fic #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan fanfic #rdr oc #my oc #my fics #annie bolton #for they shall be satisfied #ftsbs

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