Arthur Morgan x Reader

Nineteen

"Would you walk with me a bit, Arthur?", you asked, staring at the calm riverbed, while the weight of pure platinum rested in your pockets.

A warm breeze made the trees shake.

The smell of something sweet was in the air.

With a quick glance, Arthur looked around and then let out a hum.

He had his head lowered as he walked up to your side so that the two of you could walk the same pace.

His eyes were shielded by the brim of his black hat, but his gaze lingered on you as if he could read your mind like this.

The soft sound of running water traveled through the mountains.

It was warm. The sun shone.

On top of a small rock, you stopped to throw a glance deep into the valley that lay hidden between a chain of mountains.

The bright blue water of a lake sparkled down there as if the sunlight had been caught and wasn't able to escape anymore.

"I always wondered...", you started with a soft smile on your face while the crisp air stroked your cheeks. "How is life being an outlaw?"

He looked up.

There was something in those deep blue eyes of his.

Was it surprise?

Or confusion?

"I thought you told Dutch you were once like us?", he recalled, eyes wandering over your face. "Was that a lie to serve the purpose?"

You shook your head.

The strands of your (H/C) hair danced with the wind.

"No. Shortly after Ginny was born, I had to make ends meet on my own."

A sound escaped him.

He seemed to exactly understand how that was like.

"I never had to take care of someone else. At least not someone who I'm blood related to."

You glanced at him.

"Do you have siblings?"

"Nah. Well... John, but he's an adopted idiot."

A chuckle escaped you.

"That sounds like something a brother would say."

He huffed.

"I guess so.", his hand rose to scratch the back of his neck. "Not that I know how a brother would be like. I was alone."

Something in the back of your head pulled together.

The way he said it told that he still felt some sort of loneliness. Or that he longed for something he knew he'd never have.

You turned your head back to the lake.

"What about a wife?", you asked and rubbed your index finger with your thumb.

The priest had tried to force you into marriage once.

And before that, your parents had tried to marry you off many times to have one less mouth to feed.

Before they had tragically passed.

Somehow, you had always made it back. At first it had only been to show your parents that you were like a parasite and they wouldn't get rid of you unless they'd nib the problem in the bud and put a bullet to your head.

But after Ginny had been born, it had been your responsibility to take care of him so you had always returned for that one reason.

He felt more like a son than a brother. After all, his life had been dependent on your ability to provide and teach.

For a lousy person that you were he had turned out quite decent. That was something you took great pride in.

Arthur took a deep breath.

"No one would have me.", he said and smiled.

But it was such a painful, tragic smile that it made you feel sick to your stomach that you had asked that question in the first place.

Your lips parted to ask a follow up question. But you forced the words that already lay on your tongue back down.

It would have only rubbed salt into old wounds.

Next to you, Arthur let out a deep breath.

"No kids either.", he said and managed to guess your question. "It's fine. With a life like mine, simple happiness can't be part of it. I made my peace with that."

"I suppose everything comes with up- and downsides. I think... if I may?"

His eyes moved to the corner of his vision to lock with yours.

"Go on.", he allowed with a nod of his head.

You turned to face him directly.

Now, the two of you were looking at each other, face to face. While you stood on the rock, looking down on him, he looked up to you, hands on his belt.

Somehow, it made your heart beat faster.

"I think you would make a good father, Arthur.", you smiled softly. "I truly believe you're a good man."

A bitter huff made his chest vibrate.

"There ain't nothin' good about me.", he lowered his gaze. "Like I said, if you think of me as a good fella, you need to think twice. I'm an outlaw with the sins and mistakes of an outlaw. Nothin' good comes from it."

Sighing, you squeezed your eyes shut.

Without thinking, your weight shifted towards him.

Your legs gave in.

All at once, you fell.

Out of reflex, Arthur tore his hands into the air.

You expected to meet the cold river water, maybe a few stones that would tear your skin open and make the crystal water mix with blood.

But nothing happened.

He caught you.

His arms wrapped around your torso, squeezing tightly shut.

Your chest pressed against his chest while the strength of his arms pressed into your back.

Your arms wrapped around his neck to hold onto him, like a cliff in the eye of a storm.

"You're being too hard on yourself, Arthur.", you whispered into his ear. "A truly evil man wouldn't have the will to do good."

You could feel how he swallowed hard.

"I don't think you know what you're messin' with.", he managed to press out in a hoarse voice. "We ain't what we seem."

"Then tell me, what are you, Arthur Morgan?"

"A pitiful man who can't change in a world that demands change for survival. I'm not made for this new age."

"What about Dutch?"

"He's... not the same anymore. But I am. And I always will be the same ol' fool..."