The Dusty Shamrock ~ OC RDR2 fanfiction

Chapter 6

Upon reaching camp, I discussed with Dutch about the enrolment of my little brother in the gang. Little to my surprise, Sean had already made a poor attempt to pickpocket the ol' duff when they were in town. Despite their differences, Dutch accepted Sean into the gang with open arms. Must'a been our Irish charm.

I'd been sat by the fire enjoying some stew that was Pearson had prepared while we were out fishing. I noticed that everyone around us was dancing, drinking and having fun. Even Sean was merrily dancing with Karen. Everyone except Arthur, he was sat on his bed in his tent. He was writing in his journal like I'd seen him do before.
Dutch sauntered over, nearly tripping over nothing on his journey to my side. I asked a question that I had been itching to ask him since I'd recovered, deciding that this time would be my only chance for a few days.
"Say, Dutch" I started, Catching the older man's attention. "When're you gonna let me come killin' an' robbin' with you lot?" Dutch laughed in response, however stopping as he saw seriousness on my face.
"Well, we uh didn't think you'd want to?" He sat down at my side, his eyes read sober, but his actions read shitfaced.
"Why wouldn't I? I want Revenge, Dutch. I won't stop killing O'Driscolls until Colm falls cold at the barrel'o my gun" I snarled, my accent gathering and turning thick as blood. Anger seethed through my words, unbeknownst to me. I wanted Colm dead. There was special bullet in my gun with his name on it.
Dutch nodded, he understood my pain, my suffering and grief.
"Right then. In about a weeks time, Arthur and the gang are gonna raid an O'Driscoll camp. I'll arrange for you to accompany them." He rubbed my shoulder and returned to the party. I didn't get a chance to continue my questions.

A weeks time wasn't soon enough, I didn't need to raid camps. I needed to isolate them. Cut off their supply sources. Set their camps on fire. Smoke them out, one by one. I'd beat them, starve them, torture them. As my ol' man used to say, fight fire with Hellfire.

Sure, Dutch might have a plan. I've been told he always does. However, I've got a plan up my sleeve too.

I got up and went to my tent.
I knew that there was a party going on, but no one was taking notice of me. Karen and Sean were dancing, Dutch was laughing with Hosea, and, much to my displeasure, Mary-Beth was trying to seduce Arthur. She must'a gotten another weird idea from one o' them raunchy novels she writes in her spare time. She tried to get me to read one of these books, I wouldn't and I couldn't ever read something like that.
I stomped into my tent, clipping the two flaps shut from the inside. I hoped no one would come looking for me. I looked to my journal, my thoughts wandered to things that I could draw. Intrusive and interrupting thoughts about Mary-Beth's novels started to invade my art ideas and had tainted them. Another factor that had been tainting my ideas was the image of Arthur, peacefully sat on the river bank. He didn't notice, but I had memorised every intricate part of his face. Every crease, every dimple, even the way his lips were chapped yet ever so slightly wet from licking them.
I'd memorised it all completely.
I sighed and gave into my strange tendencies. Taking the journal, along with the pencil I began to draw something that I had become far too infatuated with in such a small amount of time.

I saw nothing of the face I had memorised for the rest of that evening, he most likely left me alone due to me isolating myself. I wanted him to come to me, to see if I was alright, to chat with me a little. Nothing of the sort happened, much to my disappointment.

I spent the night thinking, drawing, drinking, and crying for a small period of it too. The tears slightly stained the pages of the journal, crinkling the paper a trifle. I finished my drawing, I wasn't a fan of showing off my artworks to others so I just kept in tucked away in the deepest nook of my tent, nestled in the journal.

I'd sobered up by morning time, my drawing wasn't ruined like I'd expected it to be. I got a small amount of sleep, a dream still lingered in my mind. The dream I'd had felt like one of Mary-Beth's novels. It wasn't erotic, it was romantic and quite heartwarming to remind myself of. I made a decision. I was going to make a move soon, on Arthur. If I go any longer without him being mine, I feel as though my heart might burst out of my chest if I went on like I had been.
I slipped out of my tent, seeing the morning sun just peeping over the horizon. I took in a deep breath of the fresh morning air, my head was clear and so were my intentions. Whilst wandering around the camp, I heard my fellow camp mates stir in their dens. John popped out of his tent, just his head peeping out. John was the youngest in the gang, I was 21, Arthur was 23, which made John 13. He was still learning, I'd taken him under my wing in the recent times.
John stepped out of his tent, walking towards my spot next to the fire and taking a seat next to me. He was smiling, far more than he ever did.
"What's gotten you so giddy?" I asked him, he chuckled for a second before shaking his head.
"Promise you won't tell anyone?" He looked at his hands, I nodded sincerely. I was genuinely curious as to what had gotten my little brother so happy and cutesy.
"Well" he started "I met a girl in town" I grinned.
"Tell me more! What's her name?" I giggled like a little girl hearing about cute romance stories.
"Her name is Elizabeth Cannary, she's the same age as me. She's real cute, we're too young though" He smiled, shook his head and rolled his shoulders back. I placed my hand on John's knee, preparing him for a piece of advice.
"John" he looked at me. "Get the girl, love her as soon as you can. Don't lag behind, keep up and don't lose track. Keep her happy, sweetheart because then you'll be happy" John smiled and thanked me for my advice. However, I had more advice coming. "But- for gods sake, don't change." We smiled at each other and he left to prepare for his day. I sat by the fire contemplating whether I should go wake Arthur up or not. For the time being I wouldn't. My plans for the day we're currently unclear, some part of me hoped that Dutch would send me out scouting for O'Driscoll camps. However, the rest of me hoped to high hell that Arthur would ask me to do that. At best, perhaps Arthur would ask me into town. I could only hope.

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A/N: Hi!! I'm so happy with the amount of love that this story has received, it's far more than I ever could've wished for.

I'm so, so sorry for the really shitty chapter. Virtually nothing happened and I'm so sorry about that. I promise that this story will start to pick up in the next chapter.