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write-havoc · 6 years ago

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Of Sons and Daughters Ch. 5

Summary: Arthur is tasked by Dutch to watch over a young woman who had just lost the last member of her family she had left. That young woman just so happens to be the daughter that Dutch told no one else about.

This is a non canon AU with no major spoilers

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character

Status: Ongoing

Contains: swearing, PG 13 smut

Intended for readers 18+ of age only

Masterlist in my bio

Arthur heads out early the next morning so he can be in Blackwater before the sun fully rises. As he pushes Sparrow through the roads and trails, all he can think about is what Dutch said the night before. And not the part he really should be thinking about.

Of course he’s worried about the gang and their money, but he’s also trying to dissect what Dutch said about Emmeline. In no uncertain terms Dutch warned Arthur away from her. There’s that part of himself that agrees. He shouldn’t get too close to her. He’ll only ruin things and make her life worse. But there’s another part (a smaller part, but it’s still there) that’s hurt by Dutch insisting he stay away. Dutch was always like a father to him. And on more than one occasion, Dutch has told him how proud he was at the man Arthur had become. So why would he be so adamant that Arthur never be with Emmeline?

Arthur slows Sparrow as he comes to the point where he has to cross the Upper Montana River into the land surrounding Blackwater. If he were going to get nabbed by the law, it would probably be right here.

He sighs at the thought. “Alright, girl,” he says to Sparrow before spurring her forward. “Here we go.”

To Arthur’s relief, no one comes after him. He can see lawmen camped out on the ridges overlooking the pass, but they only give him a quick look before turning their attentions back to the road below. It must really be true that the law has forgotten about him.

The whole time the gang was set up outside Blackwater, Arthur told Dutch that keeping the money within the city limits was a bad idea. But Dutch insisted he had the perfect spot, a hollowed out tree in the cemetery of the church right outside of town. No one would ever look there, apparently. Every time Arthur complained about it, Dutch would just say that someone he trusted was watching over it. It’s not until Arthur actually sets eyes on the spot that he understands what he meant.

Arthur walks over the nearby grave that caught his eye. “Greta Van Der Linde,” he reads aloud. “Loving mother to her son Dutch.” Arthur chuckles and shakes his head. “Dutch.”

He walks over to the closest tree and couches down beside it. There’s a very obviously dug out hole by the semi exposed roots. That’s odd, he thinks. Dutch knows better than to make it so obvious that there’s something hidden there. Arthur sticks his hand the the hole and roots around in the hollow cavity under the tree. When he doesn’t feel anything, he shoves his arm in deeper, but he comes up empty handed. Literally.

“Shit,” Arthur mutters, trying not to raise his voice in anger. The money is not there. Not where it should be. “Goddamnit.” Someone had taken the money.

He stands up straight and wipes his brow. The action causes him to turn his head toward the church and he notices a man sleeping against the side of the building. As Arthur walks closer to him, he sees the empty whiskey bottle loosely held in the man’s hand. Obviously, the man had one too many and passed out near the church.

“Hey.” Arthur kicks one of the man’s outstretched legs to wake him up.

The man makes a startled, half asleep noise then looks up to Arthur. “Whacha want, mister? I’m tryna sleep here.”

It’s probably a long shot, but Arthur asks anyway, “You didn’t happen to see anyone out near that tree, did ya?” Arthur points to the tree in question.

The man hiccups before answering. “Actually. Now that you mention it, I did. Two fellers was carrying on over there.”

“You see what they look like?”

The man shrugs. “It was dark.” *hiccup* “They got real excited about sumthin’ then left real quick. One of them was named Clem... or Cleet. Sumthin’ like that. I heard ‘em mention Strawberry.”

“What time was that?”

“Uh.” He scratches at his stringy hair. “What time is it now?”

Arthur pulls out his pocket watch. “4:24,” he answers curtly.

The man thinks for a moment. “How long have I been sitting here?”

Arthur is losing patience with this. “How the hell would I know?”

“Calm down, mister.” The man gives Arthur a dismissive gesture. “I got kicked out of the saloon at...” He thinks a moment, “midnight, abouts. I think. That’s when that no good bartender usually shuts me off.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and turns to walk away, having gotten all the information he could out of the drunk. Besides, those men could have a pretty good head start, so Arthur needs to get on the road if he wants to catch up to them.

“Hey wait,” the man calls out. “Could you lend me a dollar for a drink.”

“You don’t need no more!” Arthur yells back.

“I told you what you wanted!”

“Don’t press your luck, you old drunk,” Arthur growls without looking back to the man.

Arthur hops back up on Sparrow, headed for Strawberry. This situation doesn’t seem right to him. What are the odds that someone would come across that money on their own? And right before Arthur was going to pick it up himself? It doesn’t make a lot of sense.

As Arthur comes into the town of Strawberry, the streets are congested with people starting their days. His first stop is The Trackers Hotel. There’s a small bar on the ground floor and with any luck, maybe the men he’s looking for stopped in there last night. And if he’s really lucky, they gabbed about where they’re holed up.

Arthur pushes the door to the hotel open, his boots crunching on broken glass with the first step. He looks down at his foot, then around the room at large. The whole place is a mess, glass everywhere, tables upturned, puddles of mysterious liquids all over. There’s an ornery looking older woman trying to sweep up the debris and an equally unimpressed man cleaning behind the bar.

“Looks like you had quite the night,” Arthur calls out with a chuckle.

“Yeah, well,” the man behind the bar starts. “If you’re lookin’ for a drink, you’re gonna have to go elsewhere. We were drunk damn near dry last night.”

“Can I ask what the occasion was?”

The woman lifts her head to answer. Albeit, in a way that shows her displeasure with the events of the night before. “Two gentlemen, and I use that term loosely, decided to throw their money around our small town like they was big men. Bought drinks for the whole bar all night. Caused a few fights, too.”

“Two men, huh?” Arthur scratches at his jaw. “They happen to say where they was staying at?”

The man and woman share a look before the man answers. “They stole from you, didn’t they?”

“Why do you say that?” Arthur asks.

“There’s only two reasons men flaunt their money like those fellers did last night. They’re either high born or they’re spending someone else’s money. And those men certainly weren’t no royalty.”

“Well,” Arthur walks forward and leans against the bar in front of the man, “if you’re right, then you shouldn’t have a problem selling them out. Thieves like that.”

“I knew them men was trouble the second I laid eyes on ‘em.” The man shakes his head. “Cabin. Just north of here. I overheard one of ‘em saying that to a whore.”

“Charles!” the woman chides from across the room.

“Well, that’s what she is!”

Arthur digs out a coin from his satchel and sets it on the bar. “Thanks, mister.”

As the old couple continues to bicker, Arthur turns to leave the hotel. He mounts Sparrow quickly and rides off to the cabin the bartender told him about. It’s not too far from the town, so it should be just a short ride to get there. The problem is that it’s back in the woods, so Arthur takes a few minutes to actually find it.

He dismounts his horse, leaving her back amongst the trees so any occupants of the cabin won’t see his approach. Trying to be as quiet as possible, he slinks up to one of the boarded up windows and peeks through a knothole inside. Seeing as the windows are covered, it’s rather dark inside. One lantern sits on the table in the middle of the room, casting just enough light for Arthur to make out all the important details. One of those being the large pile of money and a few gold bars sitting next to the lantern. He can see two men sleeping, apparently the men Arthur’s been after. The bigger one is face down on the bed and the skinny guy is sprawled out on a chair with his hat covering his face.

“Dumbasses,” Arthur mutters to himself as he walks up to the front door.

Taking cover to the left of the doorframe, Arthur reaches out and turns the door knob, pushing the door open as he ducks back behind the wall.

“Huh?” One of the men stirs awake. “Who’s there?” he calls out. “Joe, I think someone’s out there.”

Arthur doesn’t move a muscle, so as not to give away his position.

The other man wakes up with the commotion. “Go check it out then, Cleet,” he bites back.

Cleet reluctantly rises from his chair and walks to the door with his gun drawn. He’s not the only one, though. Arthur has his revolver up, right about head height, fully cocked. As soon as Cleet peeks out of the doorway, Arthur shoots him right through the temple, fast enough that the man is dead before he even realizes it.

Arthur rushes into the cabin, thinking he’ll catch Joe off guard still in bed. Unfortunately, the man is much closer to the door than Arthur thought he’d be. Before Arthur can turn to shoot at Joe, the man barrels into him, sending the two of them crashing into the table. The old wood splinters easily under the combined weight of them, sending what was atop it to the ground.

Joe gets in a few good punches to Arthur’s face before Arthur manages to flip them both around, gaining the upper hand. They exchange a few more blows, both too involved in not dying at the other’s hand to notice that the lantern that had been on the table had crashed to the ground, spreading the oil across the floor and leading a flame to the bed, which quickly lights up.

As they wrestle on the floor, Arthur finally manages to get his hand on his revolver. He brings it up under Joe’s chin and pulls the trigger, killing the man instantly. Arthur takes a deep breath, but it’s choked with smoke. It’s then that he realizes that the cabin is quickly burning up around him. He shoves the dead man off his chest and turns to where the money should be.

“No!” he yells as he sees nothing but flames on what used to be the cash he had come there for. He manages to pick up a few stacks that had fallen away from the flames before running from the fully engulfed building.

He takes a moment out in the fresh air to catch his breath. This had been a fool’s errand in the end. And now he has to tell Dutch that he failed in getting the money.

“Dammit!” Arthur kicks at the ground. He stands there for several minutes, just watching the cabin and the money inside burn.

The whole ride back to camp, Arthur thinks about what had happened. The more he thinks about it, the more he thinks this wasn’t just a random event. This was planned.

When Arthur hitches his horse, Micah walks by him, headed for his own mount.

“It looks like you ran into trouble,” Micah teases upon looking at the cuts and bruises on Arthur’s face.

“Shut up, Micah,” Arthur mutters, walking further into camp.

Dutch notices Arthur’s approach and meets him at the table close to where Arthur has hitched his horse. “Did you get the money, son?” Dutch asks nervously. He knows Arthur very well and the look on his face isn’t screaming “success”.

Arthur shoves his hand in his satchel and pulls out the money he managed to save, about $1000, tossing it onto the table in front of Dutch without saying a word.

Dutch waits a moment before speaking. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“Gone,” Arthur answers gruffly. “Burned up.”

Upon hearing that, Micah stomps back over to them. “What?!”

“What do you mean ‘ burned up ’?” Dutch almost growls.

Arthur starts to explain. “The money wasn’t where you left it in that cemetery,” he directs at Dutch. “It was taken by two fellers. I followed ‘em up to a cabin just north of Strawberry. I killed ‘em both, but a lantern got upset before I did. The whole cabin burned up.”

“You gotta be shittin’ me!” Micah picks up a nearby chair and throws it across the camp in anger.

Now everyone in the camp is looking in Arthur’s direction. Dutch just glares at Arthur for a moment as he thinks this development over.

“It’s all gone?” Dutch asks, hoping Arthur will tell him something different.

“Maybe the gold’ll still be there. In the ashes,” Arthur comments.

Dutch throws his hands up with a growl after a moment. “I need to think!” He stomps off to his tent, closing the flaps to give him privacy.

As Arthur’s attention is on Dutch, Micah come up from his side and shoves him hard, almost sending him to the ground. “Are you that much of an idiot you’d let all that money burn!?”

Arthur shoves him right back. “What the hell was I supposed to do?! It was covered in burning lamp oil! I barely made it outta that damn cabin alive!”

Arthur and Micah are pulled away from each other by Javier and Charles before they can start to tussle.

“Let me go!” Micah yells to Charles, but the bigger man keeps ahold.

Arthur doesn’t fight against Javier, but that doesn’t mean he’s done. “This is your fault, Bell!” he calls out as he aggressively points to Micah. “That ferry job was a stupid idea!”

“How would you know, Morgan?!” Micah spits back. “You ain’t been here! I’ve been here, making money for these parasites to live off of!” He gestures to everyone standing around.

“That’s enough!” Hosea’s booms, his usually calm voice replaced with something more authoritative. “Micah,” he points to the man, “go cool off. Charles, ride out to that cabin and see if there’s anything left. Arthur, come with me.”

Charles lets go of Micah, the man still fuming as he stomps off toward his horse. Charles lingers a moment to make sure Micah doesn’t turn back before heading out per Hosea’s orders.

Arthur follows Hosea over to the cliffs at the edge of camp. As soon as Hosea turns back to him, Arthur starts.

“I didn’t set that place on fire on purpose. I wanted to get that money. Those men-“

“I know, Arthur,” Hosea cuts him off.

“Those men knew where that money was, Hosea,” Arthur says more quietly. “I know it. They didn’t just come across it. That money was dug out.”

“You think someone told them where our money was.”

“Yeah.” Arthur nods. “I don’t how. Me, you, and Dutch was the only ones to know where we kept our money.” Arthur shakes his head.

“Maybe. Or maybe they saw us put it there.”

“And waited a few weeks until the day I got out there to pick it up?”

Hosea thinks a moment. “That is suspicious. But we don’t have any proof.” He scratches at his clean shaven jaw. “Why don’t you keep these thoughts to yourself, for now. We don’t need the group tearing itself apart to find a rat. Especially if there ain’t one to begin with.”

“If that’s what you think we should do...” Arthur replies with a shrug.

“We’ll keep a lookout. If we see anything, then we’ll know someone’s being disloyal. Then we can bring it to the group and we can deal with it accordingly.”

“You know who it would be,” Arthur says pointedly without actually saying the name. “Ain’t nobody else would sell us out like that.”

Hosea lets out a breath. He knows what Arthur is saying, and he may even agree with him, but being hasty in this situation would lead to unnecessary bloodshed.

“Like I said, I’ll keep my eyes open,” Hosea reiterates.

Arthur nods. Hosea usually always knew what was best for the group, so he’ll go along with what he says.

“Alright,” Arthur agrees. “I need to head out again, though. For a little bit at some point.” He wants to check on Emmeline and make sure that she’s okay, since he’s been gone for a couple days.

“Ah,” Hosea nods with a little smirk on his face. “The ‘down-on-her-luck’ woman Dutch has you helping.” He uses the words Dutch did when he explained why Arthur wasn’t at camp anymore.

“Yeah,” is all Arthur says.

“Would this woman be Dutch’s daughter?”

Arthur’s head snaps up to meet Hosea’s gaze. “How-“

“I’ve run with Dutch for twenty years, Arthur. And I’m not an imbecile.”

Arthur shakes his head with a chuckle. Of course Hosea would figure it out. “Dutch doesn’t think you know.”

Hosea nods. “I decided years ago that I’d let him come to me with that information. He hasn’t yet.”

“How’d you even know about her?”

“I knew Dutch was real sweet on that red headed farm girl. He made us stay in New Hanover for months because of her. Then, one day, we just left. And he never mentioned her again. A couple years after that, I found myself in Valentine. I don’t even remember why, now. But I went into the general store and I see none other than that red headed farm girl, next to her blond haired husband, carrying a raven haired little girl about two years old. Didn’t take a genius to put it all together. And when that woman caught me looking at her baby, she rushed outta there so fast, like she didn’t want me to realize what was going on.”

Arthur lights up a cigarette. “Dutch didn’t tell you because he said you’d think poorly of him for not takin’ care of the girl.”

“He’d be right,” Hosea says simply. “But it was his choice.” Hosea pauses a moment. “Is the girl sick? Is that why he sent you out there?”

“No. She ain’t sick. She’s just alone. Her father, or who she thinks was her father, died some years ago. Then the mother. Before she passed, she sent a letter to Dutch asking him to take care of Emmeline. The girl...” he scratches at the stubble on his cheek, thinking of what to say. “Her mother kept her home. Told her she’d get murdered if she left, pretty much. She wouldn’t go into town by herself. She didn’t even know how to hunt or fish. She woulda starved in a month without me there.”

“What’s she like?” Hosea asks. Hosea has always been curious about what kind of a woman she grew up to be. Even though Dutch hadn’t told him about her, or even acknowledged her as his own, in the back of his mind he’s still always seen the girl as a part of the family.

Arthur thinks it over. “She’s sweet. Innocent. Real gentle. She didn’t even want to kill a fish when I took her out fishing.” He shakes his head with a chuckle. “Reads a lot. Must get that from Dutch. She writes little stories, too.”

Hosea smiles. “She sounds like a fine woman.”

“She’s naive, though. Believed every word that’s come outta my mouth.” Arthur shakes his head. “I don’t want no one takin’ advantage of her.”

“I don’t want that, either. If Dutch isn’t gonna take care of that girl the way she needs, I’m glad you are.”

Arthur nods. “You gonna talk to Dutch about that money?”

“Yeah. We were already planning what we’d do with it. Guess we’ll have to change our plans.” He claps Arthur on the shoulder then walks back into camp.

Arthur stays around camp for a little bit, catching up with everyone and eating some of Pearson’s stew. Mostly, he’s just waiting for Charles to come back to see if he salvaged anything. When he finally does, he brings with him a few gold bars and some gold nuggets. That’s very good news, but it isn’t anywhere near compensation for all the cash that was burned. That fact is made more pointed by the fact that Dutch retreats back into his tent immediately after seeing the gold.

Arthur waits until most of the camp is asleep to head out. Emmeline’s house isn’t a long ride away, so he should be able to spend the night to make sure she’s okay and get back to camp in the morning before anyone really notices. It’s not that he’s really trying to hide what he’s doing, but maybe some people would expect him to stay in camp, given the recent developments. If they knew he was leaving, they might question his loyalties.

Arthur is surprised to see light coming out of the windows of Emmeline’s cabin once he rides up. Normally, she would be asleep by now. In actuality, though, she was having trouble sleeping. To try to tire herself out, she had grabbed her book and sat at the table writing a story. She is almost finished with it when the door starts to open. Emmeline is instantly on her feet. In her mind, only one person would be walking into her home.

“Arthur!” she calls out as he takes his first step into the room.

“Miss-“ That’s all he gets out before Emmeline jumps at him, throwing her arms around his neck. He instinctively wraps his arms around her torso so she doesn’t fall, considering her feet aren’t even on the ground.

“I missed you!”

Arthur walks the two of them into the room, kicking the door closed behind them. “I weren’t gone that long.” He sets her down and pulls away from her.

“You’re hurt!” she exclaims once she gets a good look at his face.

“It ain’t bad,” he dismisses.

“Let me help you.” Before he can object, she pulls his satchel off, throwing it on the table, and pushes his coat from his shoulders.

“I’m alright-“

She pushes him down to sit in the chair, then goes over to the cabinet to grab a small bottle of alcohol and a clean rag. “Stay still.” She comes to stand right in front of him. “This might hurt a bit.” She douses the cloth in the alcohol and leans over Arthur to dab at the split in his eyebrow.

He winces a little at the sting, but stays still just like she asked.

“What happened, Mr. Morgan? Was it bandits?”

He thinks of what to tell her. “Nuthin’ like that, Miss Emmeline. Just a... a feller had too much to drink in the saloon. Thought I was talkin’ about him. Took offense,” he lies.

“You need to be careful, Mr. Morgan.” She tilts his head up so she can tend to the cut on his cheekbone. “You have the most wonderful eyes,” she comments as she looks down at him. “But that bruise takes away a bit of the beauty.” She lightly touches the newly purple skin under his left eye.

He blinks and tries to look away. “I, uh...”

“Hold still.” She gently puts his face back to where she wants it and dabs at the small cut in his bottom lip.

He keeps his eyes closed after that, thinking if that he doesn’t see her, somehow she wouldn’t notice the heat blooming in his cheeks. He feels her pull the cloth from his skin, but then her soft lips are lightly kissing his left eyelid. He relaxes automatically, bringing his hands up to her waist without thought. He can feel the warmth of her skin seeping from the light shift she always wears to bed. It fills his mind with thoughts that he shouldn’t be having. How easy it would be to wrap his arms around her and squeeze her body close to his. How he could run his hands over her exposed thighs and under her dress. When she pulls away, though, he snaps out of it and opens his eyes.

“What was that for?” he asks quietly.

“My mama always said a kiss would make it better.”

When she bends forward again, he doesn’t stop her. Not until her lips just barely graze his bruised bottom lip. At the contact, that voice starts telling him he doesn’t deserve her. Before she can fully kiss him, he pushes her back gently.

“I’m fine, Miss Emmeline. No need to fuss.”

She swallows hard as she stands fully. “Okay.” She backs away from him, corking the bottle of alcohol and putting it back where it goes. “Well, goodnight, Mr. Morgan.” She hurries into her room, closing the door behind her.

Being that close to Arthur stirred up feelings in her. She had never been with a man before, but she’s read stories of courtship and love. Could things be like all that for her? Could she fall in love with this man that came into her life at such a low moment? The thought makes her smile, though it sours when she thinks about the way he pushed her away.

She hadn’t really meant to kiss him. Not in that way. She was just doing what her mother always did to make her feel better. But maybe he took it a different way. And maybe he just saw her as the girl his boss asked him to look after. Maybe he was just a nice man making sure she was okay and that’s it. That realization makes her let out a heavy breath as she gets back into her bed, hoping that sleep will come quickly.

As for Arthur, he stays seated for a few minutes after Emmeline left the room, thinking things over. He reaches across the table to take his journal out of his satchel and starts to write.

Got into Blackwater just fine. Guess the law ain’t after me after all. The only problem is, the money weren’t there. I ended up finding it, along with the guys that took it, in a cabin up by Strawberry. They ended up dead and the money ended up burning to ash as the cabin lit up from a broken lantern. Stupid. I managed to save some of the cash and Charles went out to collect the gold, but it’s a mere pittance of what it was. Some $150000 turned into about $3000. Jenny and those Callander brothers lost their lives for nothing. Not to mention, the gang’s wanted dead or alive in Blackwater.

That ferry job really were foolish.

I talked to Hosea about it all. I think someone in the camp talked about that money and that’s how those two fellers came across it. Either someone overheard Dutch talking about it and was stupid enough to get overheard talking about it in return or someone wanted that money for himself. And that’s what I’m betting on. And I have my suspicions that it’s Micah.

I don’t got any proof yet, but it makes sense. He’s been whispering in Dutch’s ear for months. It don’t put it past him to get the location of our stash out of him. Or maybe he just overheard. Regardless, I’m gonna have my eye on Micah from here on out. Hosea will, too, I’m sure.

I went back to check on Emmeline. She made a fuss about me being hurt. Rubbed alcohol on my cuts, then kissed my bruises. She went to kiss my fat lip, but I stopped her. It was at the last second, but I did stop her.

I thought about it, letting her kiss me. Kissing her back. But I know it wouldn’t be right. I can’t give her the kind of life she deserves. Starting anything with her would just be wrong. I don’t want to bring her into this life I’m living. And I sure as Hell can’t share her life right now. I’ve lied to her so much already. How could I tell her that I have to leave her to go rob a train? Break someone out of jail? Swindle money out of folk?

I tried to settle down once before with Mary and it failed. Miserably. I just ain’t meant for that sort of life.

Emmeline’s better off without me.

After he sketches the burning cabin on the next page, he sets his journal down on the table next to Emmeline’s book. This has been one long day and it’s taking its toll on Arthur. He stands from his seat with a sigh and walks into his bedroom to get some rest.

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