Sign of the Times (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

Chapter Fourteen

Over the next few weeks, Arthur and I tried numerous times to have some alone time, but he was constantly being called on to do a job for either of the prominent families in Rhodes, the Grays, or the Braithwaites. I mainly stayed in camp, delving in run-of-the-mill chores, and of course, medicine making.

I had to admit, things were more than a little frustrating. Arthur and I hadn't officially initiated a relationship, and we were far from having our first kiss. It seemed as though whenever we had a moment, and the mood was just right, we would be interrupted. At the present moment, Jack and I were competing in which one of us could make the best flower crown, and I was currently losing... horrifically.

"My, oh, my is it good to be back!" I heard that familiar voice, and instantly felt my skin crawl. I excused myself from where I sat across from Jack and made my way towards the other end of camp where Micah stood.

"Oh, hey there, Miss (L/N)." He said, but I said nothing as he held his hands up in mock surrender.

"Okay, look... I know we haven't always gotten along, but-"
"You tried to kill me... did ya think I wouldn't take it personal?!" I demanded, and Dutch suddenly stepped in from out of nowhere.

"Miss (L/N), please. Micah has seen the error of his ways." Dutch defended.

"It's true. All that time up in the mountains... it helped me clear my head, and I now see... how horribly wrong I was to treat ya the way I did." Micah said.

"Your words are sugarcoated, Micah. But a piece of shit rolled in sugar is still a piece of shit." I said, fury laced in my tone.

"Miss (L/N), I know you have bad blood with Mr. Bell here, but he came back here to help you." He said, and I scoffed.

"And what is it exactly that I 'need help' with...?" I asked.

"I've... yet to hear it for myself. Pearson's supposed to... clarify." Dutch sighed.

"Pearson!" Micah shouted, calling him over.

"You've got some nerve walkin' back into this camp..." Arthur's voice approached me from behind as Pearson joined the group.

"Dutch... you tell him fat man." Micah said, referring to Pearson.

"It's peace, Dutch..." Pearson started, walking over with a bit of fresh blood clinging to his apron.

"The O'Driscolls... I mean... I think there's a way." He added, and I felt my arms cross over my chest.

"What on Earth are you talking about?" Dutch asked, admonishing at the sound of the name.

"Get the words out properly, fat man." Micah sighed.

"I met a couple of the O'Driscoll boys on the road into town... things were about to get ugly, but you know how I am in a fight, huh? Like a cornered tiger." He said, pulling out his knife, and giving us a look. When none of us said anything, he continued.

"Anyway... somehow it didn't, but we got to talking, and they suggested a parley... to end things... like gentlemen." Pearson said.

"Gentlemen? Colm O'Driscoll? Have you lost your minds?" Dutch demanded, looking back and forth between Micah and Pearson.

"You're always tellin' us, Dutch... do what has to be done... but don't fight wars ain't worth fightin'." Micah said.

"They wanna parley? It's a trap." Hosea chimed in from where he was sitting at a table, reading his book.

"Well of course, it's probably a trap... but what have we got to lose finding out?" Micah asked.

"Gettin' shot for one." I spat, and Dutch pointed at me as though to say I made a valid point.