Inferno | Dutch van der Linde x Reader

Chapter 69. Arthur's Grave

Dutch was quiet the following morning. You watched him from behind as he was sat taking in the scenery while he drank his coffee when you emerged from the tent. You sat by him, took his free hand and kissed it. "Whenever you're ready, there's no rush," you reassured him.

He nodded. "I don't think I'll ever be ready. Let's go now," he finished his coffee and stood up to begin packing away the tent, and you helped after you'd fed the horses.

He was still in the habit of helping you up to your horse, and he stood by Artemis with his arm extended. "Dutch, I can mount up myself you know," you smirked as you took his hand anyway and swung your leg over the other side. He didn't respond and mounted his horse.

"Lead the way," his voice shook slightly.

"Walk on, girl," you spurred on Artemis, who obeyed and started the journey. You had the map clutched in your hand between the reins and checked it every so often to ensure you were still on the right track.

You allowed Dutch some quiet time, and didn't bother him with conversation; only checking back to make sure he hadn't bailed out on you.

"I think it's up here, the horses should make it," you called to him as you reached a rocky uphill area.

He responded with a nod for you to continue leading on.

You did and noticed the top of the grave sticking up to your right on the ridge, leading your horse left slightly before dismounting. Dutch was following your path, but staring directly at the grave.

The spot was truly beautiful. Charles must've spent a lot of time finding the perfect resting place. It overlooked the beautiful greenery below, and the mountains were splayed out ahead. A train was passing, and you smirked as you were reminded of the time Arthur had berated you for continuously ringing the bell of the one he drove. You made a mental note to tell that story to Dutch later on.

His eyes had filled up, and the two of you were still stood a few metres away. You put your hand in his and stroked his arm with your other.

He swallowed back his tears and looked at the ground. It was as if he was urging his feet to move, as he began taking slow steps towards the grave. You followed, matching his pace.

There were beautiful orange and red flowers growing around it, and as you neared you could read the inscription around his name:

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness

You felt yourself welling up, as you were reminded of the wonderful man you dearly missed.

You stood silently with Dutch, looking down at the grave. His lip was trembling, and tears had fallen down his face. "I am sorry, son," he whispered.

"Let me give you some time alone with him," you patted his arm, and he gave a slight nod without looking at you.

As you mounted Artemis, intending to find some nice flowers to pick, you watched Dutch kneel to the grave.

You took your time and spent at least fifteen minutes picking all the pretty flowers you could find. You tied them together with a few long blades of grass and made your way back to Dutch. He was sat in front of the grave now, instead of kneeling.

After clearing your throat so you didn't startle him as you approached, he glanced back to you, then returned his gaze to the grave.

You knelt and rested the flowers next to his grave. Dutch managed a smile, and the tears had dried on his cheeks.

"I failed that boy," he sniffed.

As much as you wanted to make him feel better, you didn't think that denying the truth was a good idea.

"You raised a good man," you began. "John, too. You taught them to recognise that revenge, greed and selfishness were all bad traits. You taught them so well that they recognised those traits in you when you couldn't see it yourself."

He took a deep breath and tilted his head back slightly. "Thank you," he choked.

"He saved my life, along with countless others," you brought your hand over his, "all you can do now is honour his memory, maybe try and learn something from him."

When you glanced at him, he appeared to be deep in thought as he digested what you'd said.

You shifted onto your knees, leant forward and kissed the top of Arthur's grave, before holding your forehead against it. "I really miss you, Arthur," you whispered.

· ⊱———————❖———————⊰ ·

On the journey back to the cabin, you decided against asking Dutch what he'd said to Arthur at his grave. If, of course, he'd said anything at all. While you'd love to know, it was between the two of them.

Something about the trip had both calmed and alerted something inside of Dutch. He appeared more relaxed, but there was also a quiet determination about the way he was moving.

The horses were glad to be back in the stable that night, and the two of you were glad to be home even if it was back in the cold. Dutch was pouring out two glasses of whisky when you entered after giving the horses their feed.

He handed one to you. "To Arthur," he said, which you echoed. You knocked your glasses together before tapping them to the table and drinking the whisky.

"Thank you for making me go, I wouldn't have managed it alone," he said as he moved your hair behind your ear.

"Of course," you replied, before moving the hair back over your ear once he released his hand from your head. Dutch laughed quietly.

"How do you feel?" you asked after setting down your empty glass and sitting in the chair.

He thought for a moment and leaned back against the counter. "My head is much clearer," he nodded.

"I'm glad to hear that."

"You're right, I need to honour his memory. I owe him that at the very least," he drummed his fingers on the counter.

"Sure..." you couldn't quite read the expression on his face. "Is there a certain way you want to do that?"

He slowly nodded his head up and down.

"Care to divulge?" you asked nervously.

"I'm going to kill Micah Bell."