Take Your Joy (WHF x Reader)

The Veterans Camp

I see there are still fans of this series. Well, as long as there are fans, I'll keep obliging!

-Your POV-

I watch as Arthur tries to calm down the somewhat familiar, raging Scotsman from bashing my companion's and my head in. I could try to help, but my line of reasoning for helping someone in this state is to knock them out. Technically, it would calm him down, certainly would stop him from hurting us. But I doubt I have the strength to properly achieve this. I stick behind a piece of furniture while Arthur holds out his hands in desperation.

"It's me! Your old neighbor! Little Artie!" Arthur manages to catch the piece of wood with his hands but is still being pushed backward.

"YER' ALWAYS LYING!" The brute spats back. He sounds pretty sad about it. "Artie's GONE! They took him awa'!"

"No, they didn't! I ESCAPED!" Arthur dodges another swing, but backs into a crooked bench and falls on his back.

Come on (Y/N)! You got to do something to help! Anything to stop my only guide from being beaten to death. With a rush of adrenalin, I take my chance to run behind Ollie as he raises his arms over his head for a killing blow. I succeed in restraining his arms from bringing the wood down.

"WHAT THA' DEVIL?! Tag teaming are ye'?!" His focus now on me, he shakes and wriggles violently to throw me off.

My grip is no match for a big, rampant man, I can feel my own arms quickly losing strength. "Arthur! A little help here! I can't do this much-ACK!" My nose is no match for a raging Scott's head either. 

I let go to tend to the pain in my nose and mouth. Big mistake. As I catch a glimpse of the man now turning to face me with the same attitude he had with Arthur. My focus shifts between the blood trickling down my nose and stopping a worse fate.

"Ah! Now the lasses are at war are dey? 'AVE AT THEE'!"

Luckily, Arthur had managed to stop Ollie from getting too close by grabbing his arms. "OLLIE! It's me! ARTHUR!" He yells in desperation.

There's a second of silence as the Scott's aggressiveness suddenly disappears from his face, now replaced with...passive friendliness? "Oh, well why didn't you say that before?"

This mother fucker. "HE DID!" I managed to yell through the aching.

"Really? Didn't quite catch tha'." He just looks between me and Arthur and scratches his head, seemingly confused at the whole ordeal. "But my god, Little Artie? Is that really you?" He turns to "Artie", staring closely at him in astonishment.

"Yeah, for fucks sake!" Arthur also agrees he's done with Ollie's shit already.

"Watch yer mouth laddie! What would your mum think?" Scolds Ollie as if he didn't just try to kill someone's son.

"She'd probably say the same thing," I mutter under my breath.

"Ah...reminds me of me' own mum actually. Swore like a sailor, she did." Ollie pauses up at the walls for a moment in reminiscence before snapping back to reality. "Oh! Right, where have my manners gone?" He pulls a chair up towards me; the sudden kind gesture causes me to flinch. "Have a seat lass, let me take a look at te' damage."

I don't really want to trust a guy who tried to kill me not even 5 minutes ago, but I need a quick rest, and he seems sane enough to trust for now; I take the seat. "Thank you...I guess."

"Now make sure to keep your head back, wouldn't want your brains to leak out your head. That happened to a fellow soldier, ya' know." He scrouges around the table for something, probably bandages as he tells his war story.