//BEARING ARMS//RDR2//ARTHUR x READER

Chapter Three

It was a new day, sunny and bright. (Y/N) stretched her arms and let out yawn, "Aahh, what has the day planned?" Then, tunk, tunk, tunk- a knock on the door.

"(Y/n)! Time to come get breakfast, so hurry and get dressed!" Said her mother.

"Ugh," groaned (Y/n), "or rather, what have my parents planned for today." She sat up in her temporary bed at the inn. She was staying in Valentine for the time being. Because of the commotion at the saloon, (Y/n) and her family decided to hurry and lodge to rest in peace. Their day was cut short because of the previous evening.

(Y/n) had left the room in a blue dress just after fixing her hair. Downstairs her mother and father awaited. They had given her an apple and a prepared cup of tea. Her father urged her to hurry, "I know it isn't much, but this will suffice for breakfast."

She was not amused. (Y/n) was starving and an apple and tea simply was not the 'breakfast' she imagined when her mother urged her to quickly dress and leave. "What about you two? What will you have to eat?" She asked.

"Oh, don't worry! We had woken up much earlier and ate somewhere near by-" explained her mother.

(Y/n) was now confused as to why she was given an apple while her parents dined without her. "Oh, I see. Why did you-"

Her father chose to cut in. "(Y/n), please, you are to marry Peter Hillington! You must keep your figure in line, think of him. You must appear as beautiful as usual."

Her parents were not acting the same. They have seemed to behave around her differently than before the declared arranged marriage. Recently (Y/n) had noticed how demanding they had become, forcing her to sit up right, judging her decisions, and now limiting her food. Again, she was thinking over the idea of this arranged marriage.

The three walked out of the lobby of the inn. On their way to the general store, Mrs. Robinson continued to explain their plan, "We are heading to the general store to restock our supplies. Our coach should come not long afterwards to take us down to Rhodes through the quickest path possible. We must not lose any time; do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Little did they know, their conversation was overheard by none other than one of the O'Driscoll's, members of a gang who despise Dutch Van der Linde and his posse. "Hey, we got to tell the boss about this coach!" Said the stout man to his friend, "look at those people, they definitely have some kind of fortune on them."

Thirty minutes later

"Get in the coach," ordered Mr. Robinson. His hands were full of food and other necessary supplies. He entered and sat himself into the carriage after his wife and daughter. "To Rhodes, my good man," he said, and their ride began.

After about twenty minutes into their trip, (Y/n) was beginning to feel sick and cold. Her immune system was not fit, for her parents had been allowing her food less and less. Not to mention, it turned out that her breakfast happened to be a bad apple.

"Mum," (Y/n) said, "I'm not feeling too well. I feel a little cold."

Her mother furrowed her brows, "oh dear, please tell me you are not falling ill? What seems to be the matter?" Her mother wrapped her in a coat with a hood to keep warm.

" Thank you, my stomach just feels a little funny."

Mr. Robinson was becoming concerned. He did not want (Y/n) to be sick. She would be not as presentable to anyone if she was. He insisted she cover up, perhaps it was not chills and she simply did feel cold? It was a little brisk out anyway.

Paranoid, he called to the coach driver, "Stop, please, stop the horses." He turned to his wife and daughter, "Erm, maybe, maybe (Y/n) is having common stomach issues? Darling, do go step out of the carriage and take care of what you must?"

(Y/n) knew what her father was suggesting. She did not need to relieve herself or anything else- but, she did want to prolong her trip. She was beginning to despise this idea of marriage. So, she complied and stepped out and took a small stroll into the trees.

Not too far from the stopped carriage, were the O'Driscolls. "There," one called, "that's them alright. I can see that old hag and her husband sitting like ducks in there." Before they knew it, a shot fired and killed the driver.

"Oh my God!" Screamed Mrs. Robinson, her hand over her pumping heart. The horses began to unsettle, and so they, too, were shot dead.

An O'Driscoll opened the coach door, "Hello, there lady and gentleman! Hand over all your valuables or else." He made a click of his revolver and the couple began to rummage their belongings, handing over whatever they could.

"That's it! That's all we have!" Said Mr. Robinson.

"Well, well, well, I'd wish I could believe that, but I can tell you've got something there in your sleeve. He reached over, grabbed Mr. Robinson's arm and an expensive broch fell out. The man clicked his tongue, "I don't like liars, Mister. I really don't."

Boom

The man shot a bullet between Mr. Robinson's eyes.

"NO! My husband!" Mrs. Robinson hunched over and sobbed, "you murderer! You killed my dear husband!"

The heartless man scrunched his face, "oh, shut up and be quiet!"

BOOM

He had shot her dead, as well. "I don't like crying either," he said.

* * *

"Micah! You always get us some kind of trouble!" Called Arthur, clearly getting fed up with his antics.

"Says who, Cowpoke?" Micah antagonized; he loved annoying others. Suddenly, screams were heard, and gunshots fired in the distance.

Dutch halted his horse and so did the others, "Now that, my friends, sounds like a possible opportunity. Let's see what the noise is about, shall we?"