Blessed are the Peacemakers {[RDR2 Arthur X Reader]}

chapter 2; suspicions

What felt like hours had been days. The sun rose and set without you being aware of the passing time. At least this also meant you were blissfully unaware of the pain of your healing wounds.

Your eyes flicker open to a soft light pouring over your bed from the window. Morning. You stretched, noticing that your muscles were sore but not in pain. You run your fingers over the bandages that Miss Grimshaw had tenderly wrapped you in. Several covered you arms and legs but the largest one was wrapped around your head.

The fire was going but had nearly burned out. Your hands wander down to the rope around your ankle, carefully inspecting every inch of yourself, recalling the memories of what had happened to and remembering where you were. Taking in your surroundings, you find a glass of water and a hunk of stale bread at the bedside which you don't hesitate to swallow down.

Suddenly, the door swung open and the figure of a man carrying logs appeared silhoutted by the morning sun behind him. Without giving you a glance, he hustled in to throw a log on the fire. You cleared your throat and he spun around, dropping the logs and sending soot and ash flying everywhere. You realized this was the same man who had helped you to bed.

"F**ks sake, you scared me. Didn't realize you were awake." He sounded almost embarrassed. He stood and cracked his head against the mantel of the fireplace. "Dammit!" he muttered under his breath. "I'll uh... go tell Dutch your awake. I see you ate the food Grimshaw left for you. Feeling ready to talk?" He pulled leather gloves on his hands and adjusted his hat.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and shrugged. "I suppose so... I just woke up. How long was I out?" You look up at him with your [Y/eye color] doe eyes.

"Well uh, bout three days. I, I mean we, was getting real worried about you." His voice was softer than the first time he'd spoken to you. "Well cause Dutch will be needing to find out what you know. Who you are and what your intentions are, what not." his voice trailed off as he anxiously rubbed the back of his neck.

You nod but are having trouble comprehending that you've slept through the last three days. A hunger pained in your stomach. That bread wasn't exactly filling.

"I'll try to catch Miss Grimshaw on my way out. She'll be able to bring you something more to eat." He made his way for the door. You caught a glimpse of the outside, which seemed to be turning into a giant mud puddle of melted snow and leftover icicles.

Dutch Van der Linde - Gang leader

Twenty minutes go by and the infamous Dutch charges into your room. The familiar men who'd been with him the night they found you were following close behind him. You observed them carefully, taking in the new details you could notice in the daylight that you weren't able to catch last time.

"Well, well, well... look who's awake!" His voice bellowed. "We need to talk, don't we? Why don't you start by telling me your name." He flipped around one of the dining chairs and strattled it, eyeballing you carefully.