Dutch's Daughter [[RDR2 Arthur Morgan x OC]]

chapter 41; favored son

"My whole life, I tried to fight change... it's a waste. I see that now. It was all a waste. You can't fight nature, Captain. You can't fight change. You can't fight... gravity."

Dutch's words ring through Arthur's mind once more as he waits for the water below to catch his fall. A crazy old fool, Dutch had always been, ever since Arthur had met him all those years ago. Now, flying helplessly through the air, time slows long enough for him to think back on those days.

All the shit he's been dragged through for the sake of some foolish plan of Dutch's... and for what? What had it earned him but an entire militia hunting after him and those he loves?

The frigid water, runoff from the mountain snow, envelops him, freezing his already damaged lungs. Barely keeping himself above the icy edge, he takes a short breath before being pulled back under. Resurfacing, he catches a glimpse of the shore ahead, Dutch crouched at the shore.

"Arthur, take my hand! Don't give up now, son!" He calls out, hand stretched out.

Pushing off a moss covered boulder, Arthur manages to launch himself in his direction. Feeling the gravel beneath his feet, he pushes further until Dutch's hand is in reach. Taking it, Dutch plants his heels in the dirt, heaving Arthur to shore.

"We're okay... You're okay..." Dutch convinces as Arthur catches his breath. "We just escaped from chaos. Eagle Flies must have been taken."

"Taken?" Arthur wheezes.

"Taken... or killed." Dutch admits. "Well, we can't go find out. That's for certain. We'll have to send Charles. Let's split up and make our way back to camp." He pats his back as he pushes himself to a stand, wringing water from his black suit.

"Faith, Arthur. Have faith!" Dutch reminds him before trudging from the muddy bank to climb his way out of the canyon.

- - -

Back at camp, Charlotte helps Arthur into a pair of fresh clothes, fetching a plate of roasted rabbit and broth. Charles had been ready to ride out that night but one look from Lottie and he retreated for his tent, claiming he needed rest too.

Even with Lottie at his side, tending to him as she always so loyally did, sleep was rare. Too many thoughts flooded Arthur's mind, haunting him every time he dared to close his eyes. Late in the night, he spiked a fever which brought a terrible sweat. Near morning, Lottie finally dragged him down to the Kamasa River and made him lay in the cold water again until his temperature dropped.

Returned to his bed, he was able to rest a few hours. Charlotte kept a damp rag pressed to his head, singing to him any time he stirred or threatened to wake. At sunrise, Charles was at the door, ready to go once more. He'd had the fortune of a full nights sleep.

Despite her protests, Arthur got up and dressed. Lottie lost the fight in trying to tag along with the men. She wasn't well loved by the natives on the reservation due simply to her abrasive nature but further, Arthur was eager to keep her out of any potential danger. Though the entire camp was on edge, it was still the safest place for her to be, somewhat hidden from the law hunting her down.

Charles led the way to the reservation where Chief Rains Fall was recovering in his tent, consumed by thought of his own concerning his own people. His son, Eagle Flies, is arguably just as brave, angry and stubborn as Mr. Morgan. He's found himself in trouble yet again, in danger of being hung for treason.

Dutch foolishly promised peace from the US Government to the natives, a peace that wasn't his to promise. Whether he ever had the pure and true intention to help them achieve it, is up for debate. Arthur can only offer little to the Chief now and that is to bring his son home safe.

"You know... none of this would have happened if it weren't for Dutch." Charles says, as he leads the way on horseback.

"It wasn't just Dutch. We all went along with it." Arthur defends instinctually though he doesn't convince even himself.

"He saw Eagle Flies burned hot and he fanned the flames. He's not helping the tribe. He's only helping himself. You must see that or you wouldn't have gone to Rains Fall behind his back." His voices raises with passion for the issue at hand.

"I guess I just keep thinking... there must be a way to save the situation. To pull Dutch out of the place he's in. I've gotta try. I owe him that, at least. I owe Charlotte that. I mean... he's her father."

Charles falls quiet, tired of fighting and arguing just as much as Arthur is. Neither bring the topic up again.

Rescuing Eagle Flies was yet another gun fight, another close call and run in with death. The fight left Arthur depleted once more though the quiet ride home alone through the rain helped put him at ease. It was easier to breath when the air was damp. He'd always thought mountain air was easier to take in anyways.