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

chapter 26; silver linings

The moon beams down, lighting the windy path into the unfamiliar territory you are told will be your new home for the time being. Arthur's shoulders slump forward, the weight of having a family depend on him laying heavily. He stares ahead with exhausted eyes, the Morgan mindlessly carrying you both at a slow speed. Getting close to home, your head rests lazily on his back, the numbness returning and washing over you. The moment of truth was fast approaching and you were dreading its arrival.

"Everybody... get some rest. We've all been through a lot." Even Dutch's voice is lethargic, his natural charisma tainted by his recent defeat.

Approaching the hitching posts, you see the lovely faces of your dear friends waiting to greet you. Arthur ties up the palomino and gingerly helps you dismount where Abigail immediately surrounds you in a 'welcome home' hug. She whisks you away to show you to the tent the ladies have set up for you. Of course, the other girls swarm to you, asking a million questions as fast as they'll come from their mouths.

"I can't imagine what you've been through... seeing what you've seen." Karen's voice trails off as she envisions the gruesome deaths you unfortunately bore witness to.

"John says they'll be traveling back tomorrow to see if they can fetch their bodies... give them the proper Christian burial they deserve." Abigail slides her arm around yours, leaning on you for support.

You nod in agreement, hoping that seeing them put to rest would help ease your mind. Looking back over your shoulder, you catch Arthur watching you walk away with the troop of women. His body language is off as he stands almost perfectly still, arms crossed, staring at you like he was trying to read your mind. The swelling under his bloodshot eyes tells you he hasn't been able to sleep. Mary-Beth brings your attention back, gripping your shoulder with her dainty pale hand.

"Are you hungry?" She asks, her face lit up with the typical Mary-Beth spirit.

It occurs to you that you hadn't eaten since your trip to the doctors and you become aware of the weakness in your limbs. The girls read your face and take it as a yes. They walk you over to the table where they fix you a plate of supper leftovers.

"I'm sure she'd like some time to herself girls... why don't we go finish up setting up their tent for the night?" Abigail spreads her arms out to shoo the worried women away, sending a kind smile your way before following behind them.

The full plate is cold but satisfying. A chunk of bread, some vegetables and a tough piece of meat. Dutch sits beside you, setting a flask next to your plate. He taps the cool metal with his finger and you obey the signal, taking a big swig of the cheap whiskey.

"Listen... I uh, appreciate what you did for us... for me... today. You have more than earned your place in the gang, [Y/N]." His lips are pursed in a tight line, struggling to humble himself. "I wasted a lot of time distrusting you. You have become a vital member of the family and I just... want you to know that you don't need to fear anymore. You're one of us. For good. You certainly seem to keep that big idiot happy." He nods in Arthur's direction, stuttering awkwardly, constantly clearing his throat between the words but you can tell he's attempting to be sincere.

"Thank you, Dutch... that means more to me than you know." You smirk at him and he grins back before standing to strut back towards his tent where Ms. O'Shea has been impatiently waiting. The empty chair is quickly filled by Arthur. His demeanor hasn't changed, stiff and worried. He doesn't say anything, just rests his hand on your knee, gently rubbing it with his calloused thumb. You can no longer avoid the subject, looking over at his somber blue eyes staring into yours.

Unspoken, you stand up together, leaving the round table to find a private place to talk. He takes the lead, his hand now in yours and leads you into the thick trees beyond the camp. Just far enough to discuss the things without fear of anyone else hearing. He stops right at the edge of a small clearing, the moon creating a blue light on the scenery further setting the melancholy mood of the evening. It's quiet at first, neither one of you wanting to be the first to speak.