Mud and Gold [Arthur Morgan] [RDR2]

➵ chapter xiv

Nothing could've prepared Arthur for such a confession.

Dutch didn't look any different than he did—eyes wide open, mouth agape in shock, body frozen on the spot. Not often, and not many things could leave the leader of the Van der Linde gang speechless, but this—this definitely did.

A heavy silence fell upon the three outlaws like a hammer, helped make even worse the already tense, uncomfortable atmosphere inside that tent; a mix between awkwardness, for nobody seemed to know how to proceed, and slight disappointment, coming from Dutch himself. 

Arthur had no doubt that the leader wasn't too happy with the news; by the look on his face, Dutch seemed more betrayed than angry, still his blank expression would terrorize anyone that dared gaze in his direction.

"You..." His voice, laced with a subtle accusative tone, came out quiet, like a whisper—but this quietness, Arthur knew better, didn't mean anything good. "You have a... daughter?" His inquiry didn't come alone; a deep frown etched between his brows, his eyes hardened their stare.

Despite Dutch's intimidating tone, Hosea remained unfazed. Both men knew each other better than anybody else in camp, had been guiding the gang together for almost as long as Arthur could remember. Hosea didn't get scared by Dutch's hard façade, didn't fall for the leader's usual tactics to intimidate those who dared defy him.

Hosea Matthews stood up, and kept Dutch's gaze like no other person could. "It happened long b'fore we met, Dutch, way b'fore that."

Arthur stayed on his spot, hands grabbing tightly his belt buckle as he witnessed his two father-like figures stare at each other. He could easily guess Hosea had hid this secret from everyone—even from Dutch. And, by the looks of it, he never had the intention of telling anybody, any time soon.

Upon hearing Hosea's statement, Dutch's harsh mien shifted almost drastically. Realization hit him, and he no longer had a scowl plastered on his face. Now, he looked even more surprised than before. "So she's not—"

"Not Bessie's." Hosea finished for him, rapidly, with a shake of his head. A quiet sigh escaped him, as he turned to glance at Arthur, then back at Dutch. "Never told anybody anythin'. Guess I was scared of them O'Driscolls or Pinkertons ever findin' out."

Arthur had been too focused on the older outlaw, to notice Dutch moving; he only heard a thump to his left, followed by the shuffling of feet. Dutch had sat back down, had one of his legs stretched out as he tapped the wooden desk by him softly. "Hosea, you shoulda told me!" No longer accusative, now his voice sounded more reprimanding than anything. "How could you keep somethin' like this from me? I thought we trusted each other!"

"And I trust you, Dutch! I really do!" Hosea huffed, placing his hands on his hips, looked almost offended by Dutch's words. "But my daughter's life—existence—ain't somethin' I would trust to nobody, but me."

Something between realization, and understanding crossed the leader's face, as he gave a curt nod. "I see."

Arthur crossed his arms, silently observed both men exchange their words. Dutch may have felt betrayed for not being trusted with such information, but Arthur felt completely different.

It did not only surprise him, to know that this beautiful woman he'd rescued from the O'Driscolls turned out to be Hosea's daughter; something inside of him, deep within, ignited the moment he heard Hosea say those words. 

Arthur Morgan had not only fallen deeply, helplessly for a not-as-much-of-a damsel in distress; he had fallen for Hosea Matthew's daughter.

"As you probably may 've guessed, I worked on my own b'fore I met you all. Nothing wise 'n' honorable about my way of livin', but I managed." Hosea's voice pulled Arthur out of his train of thought.

The older outlaw had sat down as well; had taken out something from his pocket. He fidgeted with the unknown object absentmindedly whilst he spoke. "It was durin' one of these awful jobs I'd done when I met a woman; beautiful, kind, all in between—Lorena. I was young, and careless. We both were—you can imagine, a one night stand did not end so well."

It felt like a punch in the face, hearing a certain truth Arthur already knew of being told by somebody else. He knew it too well.

"I'd told her what I did for a livin'. She said she didn't care, as long as I helped her with the child. I accepted." Hosea paused, and sighed. "Months passed. B'fore I knew it, she'd already given birth. She already held our newborn child in her arms by the time I went to her house to visit her, as I'd often do. I knew somethin' wasn't right when I saw her that night; Lorena looked as pale as the moon..."

Arthur sighed internally, and glanced at Dutch; the leader listened to Hosea attentively, never once missing a single word he spoke.

"I couldn't do much for Lorena, as for the child... I couldn't leave her. I cared for that girl for almost a decade, took care of her, 'n' protected her. Kept her safe for as long as I could. I named her (y/n) (l/n); that was her mother's last name."

A silent gasp erupted from Arthur at the news—(y/n) had not lied to him about her name, at all. It made sense, so much sense, he almost couldn't believe it. He couldn't help but wonder how many things he'd thought were lies, were actually true now.

"But this didn't last long. I lived a life full of danger, I still do. When it became too dangerous, I... I sent her away, as much as it broke my heart... and hers. I left her with a good ol' friend of mine, Odin Victoriano. He'd recently lost his two children, 'n' took (y/n) in without a doubt."

"So here's when our friend, Lord Victoriano comes into the picture," Dutch mumbled, earning a nod from Hosea.

"I sent him letters every so often, askin' 'bout her. With Odin, I knew (y/n) had everything she needed. I wasn't too worried. I, uh, guess she took his last name after a while." He paused, and took in a deep breath, which he later let out in a big sigh. "And, then... I met you, Dutch. And with your idea of formin' a gang, with Arthur 'n' the others then in my life, I made a decision—the hardest one yet. The year we formed the gang was the year I sent one last letter to Odin; I'd decided it was time to let go."

"You stopped writin' letters to him?" Arthur inquired, perplexed.

Hosea nodded. "Had to. I was holdin' onto somethin' I no longer had with me, somethin' too special that I was forced to push away... It hurt too much, contactin' 'em, and knowin' I'd never be able to see her again. I had to stop."

Regret, remorse; among others, Arthur could clearly see these two feelings in the older outlaw's eyes as he spoke. He could only wonder how long he'd felt like that for; feeling regret, for pushing away the person he probably had cared about the most, besides Bessie and the gang.

Not as tense as before, silence conquered the leader's tent yet again. This time, Dutch seemed to be thinking, too engrossed in his thoughts to acknowledge Hosea standing up, and facing Arthur.

"Is she really here, Arthur?" Hosea's voice came out quiet, as though he were afraid of speaking too loud. "Is she in the Heartlands?"

Arthur confirmed it all with a short nod.

Hosea let out a sigh. "You said you both went lookin' for that gold, right? When did ya see her last? Where?"

"Uh," Arthur rubbed his neck. "Two days ago. B'lieve we were close to Moonstone Pond. Why?"

The older man, for a change, did not sigh. A smile, slowly becoming a grin, took over his wrinkled features. A wave of relief washed over Arthur at the sight, almost made him grin himself as well.

"Well, if what you told me 'bout her is true; then I'll bet my daughter's already gotten that gold."