#arthur comes in to find her crying because she recognises the writing at the top of each piece

[lit-in-thy-heart]

lancelot falls in love with basically everyone so i don't think it's totally implausible that he paints to capture their beauty as best as he can

[caspers-arthur-morgan-imagines]

Take Me Home - Part One

After a misunderstanding leading to an argument, Arthur is faced with the horror of losing the woman he loves. 

(So basically, I’ve been crying all day but I made this and I hope you like it.)

Three days.

That was all it took for everything to go to shit.

Freya hadn’t returned to camp for three days. Her horse and herself were gone. Her tent and belongings were untouched. Left the way that she had ignored everything and everyone as her world was crumpling in front of her when she ran.

Hosea had told everyone to leave her be. To let her grieve. The older man had only seen this happen once before in the time he had known Freya. The day after she lost her mother and he and Dutch had found her in the cabin in the middle of the desert. The heart shattering cries as the young girl held onto the still warm corpse of her deceased mother.

But this was a new type loss. The cause of it was sat across of camp as the old man stood on watch for the return of Freya. The cause being the man sulking in his tent.

Arthur.

Hosea hadn’t been present when the fight started. But he was there for the end of it.

“You didn’t have to do anything!” Freya had screamed in Arthur’s face. Throwing down the book that she had been reading as she stood. “Any moment she comes crawling back it’s as though she never left!”

“What was I supposed to do?!” Arthur had shouted back. Anger getting the better of him, his damned pride getting in his way of seeing how upset she was.

“You were supposed to chose me!” Freya cried. Freya pushed Arthur. Started beating her hands on his chest. The man had taken every hit she gave. “I should’ve been enough!”

Not long after, Freya ran. She took off on her horse as the rest of camp stood bewildered at the scene that had played out in front of them. Arthur retreated to his own tent; shoving passed Dutch who had tried to approach him.

A day passed and Hosea knew it would be many more before he saw the young woman return – if she did at all. A day of Arthur sitting at the campfire drinking bottle after bottle as he grumbled to himself; making both Swanson and Uncle look sane. Hosea had to help the younger man to his tent that night as he swayed and staggered. Hosea put him to bed as Arthur began to cry.

“Why do I keep fucking it up?” He remembered Arthur asking.

“You’re as dumb as you look.” Hosea had responded before leaving him for the night and retiring to his own tent.

Day two saw Arthur leaving the camp to go hunting. Hosea wasn’t sure whether he would bring back a dead animal or Freya on the back of his horse. But it was only a deer and two rabbits that joined Arthur on his horse when he returned. Arthur returned to his tent and during the night, Hosea could hear the man cry.

The third was how Hosea saw him now. Silently writing in that journal of his, sulking. Hosea shook his head at the sight. He couldn’t remember if Arthur were meant to be in his thirties or a young felon once again. For he had stolen the heart of Freya and torn it to shreds.

Freya spent those three days in a makeshift camp some place in the woods near a lake. She hadn’t paid much attention to where she had wandered to. All she knew was that she needed to stay away for a while, let herself grieve this loss and move on.

She stared tirelessly into the flames of the small fire near her tent. Her horse was hitched to a tree not far from her and the remains of her small meal was left next to Freya’s legs. She knew she had to return at some point, there were too many responsibilities to just leave behind. But  for now she would stare aimlessly into the fire as though it would give her the reality she wanted to be apart of.

A fourth day came and it saw Arthur getting angsty to leave camp and find Freya.

“She could be hurt.” Arthur had protested to Hosea as the elder man stood between him and his horse.

“She is a smart girl. She knows how to stay safe.” Hosea declared as he crossed his arms. “Last thing she needs is you storming up to her.” He scolded Arthur.

Arthur knew he was right. So he went back to his tent. He waited and waited all day.

Then came the shock cry from Abigail. “Freya!”

Arthur rushed to his feet and out of his tent to sound. The sight he were greeted by was Freya’s horse carrying a bloody and wounded Freya as she lay against the horse’s neck. Her clothing torn and covered in dirt and blood. Blackened right eye and bleeding right cheek. Hosea and Arthur rushed to get her down from the horse.

Freya cried and whimpered as Arthur pulled her down into his arms, cradling her to himself as he looked her over. Her eyes closed and her lips parted as shallow breaths were sucked in and shook out once more.

“Get her to her tent.” Hosea demanded. Arthur didn’t waste a second. Laying her on her cot and helping Hosea as they waited for Susan.

“She’s been shot in her shoulder and by the looks of it, it’s still in there.” Hosea observed as he cut the remaining of her shirt off her shoulder. Hosea looked to Arthur as the man fretted over her. Arthur looked at Hosea and they shared a brief look before Susan came and shooed Arthur away. She closed the flaps to the tent to keep prying eyes from staring in. Arthur stood frozen staring at the tent. The only thought going through his head:

He could lose her completely.

The camp was silent. Each member stayed clear of Freya’s tent as Susan and Hosea took care of the young woman. Arthur stayed close. Refusing to move and refusing to be apart from Freya more than he already were. When Freya screamed, Arthur flinched and curled his fists. More time passed and more groans and cries came from the tent.

When Susan emerged from the tent, Arthur was swift to her side.

“She’s breathing. She needs to rest, Mr Morgan.” She told him and patted her bloodied hand on his shoulder. Arthur plead with his eyes; afraid his words would only throw him into the depths without chance of survival. Susan sighed and gestured her head to the tent, giving him on last glance before striding away.

Arthur hesitated. He knew he needed to be with Freya. But part of him told him that she didn’t need him. But the part that wanted to be beside her anchored him down to where he stood. He needed only to lift his hand and pull the flap to the side and enter the tent.

Hosea emerged before he could. The older man stared at Arthur with sorrow filling his tired eyes. Arthur couldn’t find words to begin uttering an apology before Hosea spoke.

“You better make this up to her. I won’t lose a daughter because of stupidity.”

Hosea walked away across camp to his own tent. Heart heavy and mind full. Only time would give him answers to what was to come.

Morning came and the camp arose as normal. Freya’s tent was still closed off from the rest of the members. Hosea made his way to her tent with some mixture he had made from herbs that he learnt were great at easing pain in the joints. He pulled the flap aside and halted in his movements at the sight that welcomed him.

Freya asleep and her face turned towards a sleeping Arthur, who had made residence on the ground next to her. His hat lay on the ground beside him and his jacket covered Freya’s midsection. Freya’s hand resting on top of the mustard coloured leather.

Hosea felt as though he had interrupted an intimate moment between the pair, so he slowly left after leaving the herbs beside the pair. He hoped Arthur would understand why they were there.

More hours passed before Arthur awoke with a small snort. He rubbed his eyes and looked at Freya to see her still sleeping. Arthur groans as his back pops when he stretches, but he turns when his hand touches the small jar that was now beside his head on the table. He realised that Hosea had been by and left the jar as he recognised it from the time he had suffered a bullet wound to the arm and Hosea had given him a similar concoction to help heal his wound.

Arthur gently moved the wrappings from Freya’s shoulder and applied the mixture to the area around the wound. He frowned at the stitching that was the handy work of Susan and how this could have all been prevented if it weren’t for himself. He wraps Freya’s shoulder back up and sit on the side of her cot. The back of his hand gently touching her cheek, his knuckles stroking her pale skin. Freya turned into his hand as her eye lashes twitched and began to open.

“You’re okay, darlin’.” Arthur soothed as Freya stirred and awoke.

Freya felt awful. Her throat dry, her blood pounding in her ears and a numbing ache in her shoulder. She saw the silhouette in the morning light. Smelt the familiar smoke and whiskey that accompanied the man she knew.

“Arthur.” She croaked as she blinked again and again to help regain her sight. Arthur shifted slightly to reach for her hand, enclosing it in his own.

“I’m here. You’re gonna be alright, darlin’.” Arthur assured her as his thumb stroked the back of her hand.

“Take me home.” Freya muttered. Still delirious, she closed her eyes again and returned to unconsciousness. Arthur sat holding her hand the entire time.

The next time Freya was conscious, she tried to move and leave the bed. Arthur got her to lay back down, only after promising to get her some food and something to drink. Leaving her briefly, Freya was alone with her thoughts once more.

She had been shot by someone trying to rob her. She was quick to return her own fire; thankfully, she hadn’t taken her revolver from her horse’s saddle. Now she lay in her tent. Safe. A hole slowly healing in her shoulder, but she was okay. She was alive.

Alive but still mad at the man who came back into her tent.

“Pearson just made a soup and got you some water.” Arthur spoke as he sat on the edge on her cot. Freya didn’t say anything in return, just glared. Arthur sighed as he put the bowl and mug on the table beside them.

“As pissed as you may be at me, don’t let yourself suffer.” He plead to Freya.

Freya once again said nothing. She grunted as she sat up, glaring at Arthur’s hand when he went to help but quickly retreated at her scowl. Arthur picked the mug back up and proceeded to help Freya as she sipped at the water. The dryness in her throat washing down and giving her room to breathe properly again. Arthur reached for the soup.

“I never was good enough, was I?” Freya spoke. Arthur lowered the soup to his lap as he stared down at it. Freya bore holes in the side of his head as he scrambled for words to leave his mouth. An apology. The truth of why he went to see Mary. But all he could do was stare at the soup.

“I can’t replace her. It’s always going to be her.” Freya sounded defeated. Her voice broken and tears brimming her eyes as she stared at the man she loved. The man who won’t ever look at her the same way. Freya looked away from Arthur as he sat in silence, using her good hand to wipe at the tears that fell down her cheeks. Now he couldn’t even speak to her.

“It was never her.” Arthur says.

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t give me hope.” Freya begs as she turns back to Arthur, who now was looking directly at her. “Don’t give me something I can’t have.” Freya hiccups and lowers her head. Tears now streaming freely down her face.

Arthur puts the soup back on the table. His hands restless on his knees, picking at the loose bits of thread as he opens and closes his mouth. Wanting the right words to come.

“I was never good enough for you.” Arthur admits. “I’m a damned fool for thinking I could ever give you anything outside this life.” He reaches her hand under Freya’s chin and lifts her head. Her eyes puffy from her tears and cheeks flushed from the horrid feeling she had.

“But I’ll be damned if I don’t give you everything you want.” Arthur chokes on the last word. His own tears brimming his eyes.

“Then why did you go to her?” Freya questions.

“To end it. To finally let that thread loose.” Arthur replies, his hand lowering from her face. “I went to tell I won’t be there whenever she cries. I’m not her puppet.”

Freya hiccups on her tears, her own hand reaching for Arthurs.

“I can’t let you go.” Arthur was now the one to sound defeated. “Without telling you that I love you, darlin’. And I’ll do anything for you to forgive me.” Arthur leans forward and rests his forehead against Freya’s. His eyes closing as his own tears fall.

Nightfall came when Hosea went to check on Freya again. Arthur hadn’t left her side besides to get her food and water. When he entered the tent, Arthur was listening as Freya read Frankenstein – the book that Arthur had given her a month or two after she joined. They sat together, Freya leaning on Arthur as Arthur’s chin rested on top of Freya’s head.

“Don’t mind me.” Hosea clears his throat. Freya jolts and moans, grabbing onto her shoulder. Arthur quickly to her aid.

“Jesus old man, you’re going to be the death of me.” Freya groans as she gets comfortable again.

“I think it’ll be the other way round. Gave me quite the scare seeing you come back like that.” Hosea says as he crosses his arms on his chest.

“Yeah, you should see the other guy.” Freya jokes. Arthur huffs from beside her and rolls his eyes. Hosea smiles at the calm sight of the pair.

“I see wounds are being healed.” Hosea grins. Arthur glances at Freya as she reaches to her shoulder. Arthur knew the meaning behind his words, so did Freya.

“If you don’t go scaring me half to the grave, it will be.” But Freya couldn’t help but joke.

[fuckingthefictional]

Being Ada’s best friend and falling for Tommy would include.

Becoming friends with her after the boys go off to fight

Some much older lad was trying to flirt with her and Ada looked uncomfortable. So...

“Oi you stupid cunt! Can you fuck off before a bullet gets put into your head by yours truly?”

The man scarpered off after being confronted and publically humiliated

Ada recognises you from the first aid church hall thing

“Thanks for saving me back there”

“no problem us small heath girls have to stick together”

“You’re Y/N right?”

“The one and only, And you’re Ada Shelby”

The old bloke returned with some of his friends I guess not liking the idea of being humiliated by a girl

You just took the pistol from your thigh holster and aimed it at them

“Are you bloody deaf? I told you to leave, so off you fuck!”

They didn’t move so you shot the cap off of one of their heads

“I’m giving you 3 seconds you fucking bastards and not a second more.”

They fled of course

“Christ almighty i need a whiskey.”

“I know just the place.”

After that you became fast friends and became super close.

You both go to the Garrison more than you care to admit.

Ada being surprised at how well you can hold your liquor

The only time you were both pissed out of your minds was on your 18th birthday and you just ended up walking around the streets giggling and singing at the top of your lungs.

You both couldn’t look at a bottle of vodka without gagging slightly

You’re the first person who Ada properly opens up to

She talks to you about her family and boy issues she has because she feels like nobody takes her problems seriously or would be willing to listen to her

“I get so worried about my brothers. I feel like there’s a part of me missing without them here. I’m worried that they might be killed over in France.”

“They won’t.”

“Howd you know”

“Because anyone who shares blood with you, Ada Shelby, would: a) never willingly leave someone they love alone and: b) would never go down without a bloody good fight.”

You always knew what to say to make her feel better again.

You both felt like you were each other’s sisters that they never had growing up.

Like you have sleepovers all the time

“If you expect the unexpected then doesn’t that technically mean that the unexpected is expected?”

“Y/N it’s 4am go to sleep!”

One time you’d woken up a bit earlier than Ada had and you were looking at her thinking

“Damn I’m so lucky to have her as my best friend!¡”

Then she rolled over in her sleep and smacked you in the face

The first time you met Polly you nearly shit yourself

Ada has gone to the bathroom, leaving you alone at the kitchen table

“And just who might you be?”

Polly was stood at the entry way, stern, cold look on her faceface, hand by her hip ready to grab a weapon if necessary.

“I’m- um, I’m”

“Bloody hell aunt pol put the gun down, if you must know this is Y/N she saved my arse from getting raped by an old bloke.”

“Let her speak for herself Ada”

“I’m Y/N, I scared an old guy off after he tried to feel her up in a back alley.”

“ScArEd hiM ofF, you shot the cap off of his head and they bolted.”

“Why did you do that, did you think if you scared a man off then the Shelby’s owed you a favour?”

“Nope my life is just a mess and I instinctively take care of other because I don’t know how to take care of myself.”

Polly was a lot more happy to have you around after she found out about what you risked to help her niece.

It started becoming a regular occurance to have you over for dinner or a cup of tea everyday.

You just sort of walked into the Shelby house now.

“Hey- Jesus, stop screaming for fucks sake. We’ve ran out of whiskey!”

You’re an honourary Shelby girl™️

Like you would willingly help out around the house.

Whether that’s cooking breakfast, tidying Finns room, or doing the laundry.

Always being there for Ada and being her biggest support

“Y/N I’ve done something bad. Really bad.”

“Put the corpse in ice, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“WhaT nO?! WhY wOulD I HavE a CoRpsE?”

Obviously being close to Ada meant you got close to Finn and he became a younger brother figure.

He comes to you for advice when he’s too embarrassed to go to his aunt and sister.

This family dynamic yoooooo

You began to help the Shelby ladies to run the betting shop.

You did all the numbers and you could read and write.

You also started to teach Finn how to read.

“What does that say Finn?”

“hoo-agh”

“nO”

If you get that reference then ily

You’d get dating advice from Polly too.

“Remember as ladies it’s all about being A-B-C. Always-Be-Classy”

“And a little bit slutty!”

“Ada’s right be a little bit slutty too.”

You’d help Polly look after John’s children on Sundays when she went to church

They seriously love you. They call you Aunt Y/N/N and they look forward to seeing you every weekend.

When the boys come home from France they found the family dynamic had shifted

They obviously weren’t the same after the shit they went through.

But Ada, Polly and Finn we’re happier than they’d ever seen them be

They were having a family meeting around the kitchen table

And you walked into the house as you normally did. carrying groceries

And as you walked into the kitchen

“Who the fuck are you?”

The shelby lads are aiming their guns right at you, ready to blow your head off.

You just looked at Ada, rolling your eyes, “What is it with your family and trying to shoot me on site?”

“They like to shoot first and ask questions later.”

“Aye I can bloody see.”

You just walked around to the kitchen counter and plopped the bags of shopping down.

Polly casually gave you a glass of whiskey which you downed.

“I’m sorry but who the fuck is this random girl standing in the middle of our kitchen drinking our whiskey?”

“Y/N Y/L/N, pleasure to meet you- I assume your Arthur judging by the attitude you’re giving me.”

Polly and Ada full on snorted

“And you must be John, you look just like Katie. The kids have told be a lot about you.”

“All good things I should hope.”

“Shit there were meant to be good things?”

Polly and Ada crying with laughter

“Boys this Y/N, my best friend, the person who did all the numbers for the shop while you were away, John’s kids’ babysitter, Finn’s teacher and honourary Shelby girl.”

Tommy is just in awe even if he hides it

“Welcome to the family Miss Y/L/N”

“You can call me Y/N”

Sexual tension

“GEt a RoOm!”

“Shut it Arthur”

After a few weeks the boys got used to seeing you around the house more.

Whether it was you sat at the table with Finn giving him advice on his spelling.

Or cooking dinner for John’s little ones on a Sunday (which meant you usually had at least one child on your hip)

Or even just lounging on the sofa in a heap with Ada while you gossiped.

Your qualification in nursing often came handy when one of the Shelby men would turn up battered

“That fucking hurt”

“Aye- you should have thought about this before you got into a fistfight.”

Out of all the Shelby’s it was of course Tommy that took the longest to start a full conversation with you

When it happened it wasn’t under the best circumstances

You went to the pictures on a date with a guy you had fancied for ages and the guy in question was snogging someone else- leaving you in the rain for an hour

You banged on the Shelby’s door looking like an absolute mess.

And Tommy opened the door

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do

Ada was not there *cough* at Freddie’s *cough*

And the house was empty apart from Finn, John’s kids and Polly (who was putting the children to bed)

So you just pushed past Tommy who was stood in the doorway dumbfounded

At this point you were shivering from the cold rain and the tears had stopped.

“Now what’s got you knocking on our door this late ‘ey Y/N.”

“Date went wrong, fucker stood me up.”

You were downing whiskey.

Tommy as much as he didn’t want to admit it hated seeing you upset and he knew you deserved better

It took a while for you to notice that Tommy had draped a blanket around your shoulders and had lit the fire to try and get you warmed up

“Forget the fucker. He don’t deserve a gal like you.”

“Thanks Tommy.”

In the morning Polly came down the stairs to find you and Tommy curled up on the sofa together.

She lowkey rooted for yous to get together

Honestly you found yourself constantly covering for Ada saying she was staying at your house when actually she was with Freddie

Because ur a great friend

“has anyone seen our Ada today?”

“Aye she slept at mine last night and we were up most of the night so I let her sleep in.” Definitely not at Freddie’s

“Up all night, that sounds kin-OW”

“If you must know Johnny boy- we were chatting shit about people- mainly you.”

“Uncalled for.”

“Why there’s so much to talk about?”

You were always involved in covering for Ada

Because your cared about her happiness- which was heavily influenced by her love life.

But actually Ada and Polly paid close attention to your love life too with Tommy

When you Polly and Ada were sat in the kitchen having a catchup- they raised the question.

“When are you going to realise that my brother’s in love with you?”

*que tea being spat out* WHAT

Polly just rolled her eyes and smiled, “dear Y/N, its almost obvious that Thomas is falling for you.”

“What the fuck?”

I think you may have been in a constant state of shock after that.

“We broke Y/N.”

Like you couldn’t quite pinpoint when you started to fall for Tommy

But Tommy definitely remembered the time he knew he was in love with you

You were in the kitchen, with John’s youngest child on your hip- making dinner for all the kids.

While Finn was sat at the table trying to read out bits of a book you’d lended him.

Tommy was stood in the entryway watching as Finn struggled to pronounce some of the harder words and you’d just wander over and explain how to do it.

Like to Tommy family is the most important thing in his life.

You’re not blood related but you still gave up your spare time to look after John’s kids, teach Finn to read or even just comfort Ada after a fight with Freddie.

And Tommy admires you for that- you sacrificed a lot in order to care for his family.

So he’s just leant on the doorframe, cigarette between his lips, watching as you got everything ready for dinner.

And he just thought “she’s gonna be my wife and mother to my children someday”

[selfship-uncharted]

The Fugitive Part I - The Encounter

part I - part II - part III - part IV - part V - part VI - 

part VII - part VIII - part IX - part X -  part XI - part XII  - part XIII - part XIV

A/N: I am quite nervous, this is my very first Red Dead Redemption 2 so be kind. Also please no spoilers I'm still playing it and I am quite at the beginning. I tried to write Arthur Morgan as good as I could, but it’s really a complex character. A/N2: Also, English is not my main language so be tolerant. Also, I'm quite a straightforward person and I usually go to the point, what it means I don't take my time trying to describe a scenery or an action.  All that said I hope you enjoy this fanfiction. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader Summary: You ran away from home since your father wanted you to marry someone you didn't want. Your father in order to get you home contracted Arthur Morgan's services to get you back.  Words: 1,434  Warnings: None. Tags: @asiramhera

Some days earlier you were at your father's house in Saint-Denis. Your father was rich and in order to increase his fortune he decided to marry you to one of his partners. Of course, you didn't want him. He was way too older than you and ugly and slobbery... You didn't want him, end of the matter. You tried to argue with your father but it was impossible. He had made his mind and you could cry your heart out in front of him that he wouldn't care.

That's why you decided to run away. Maybe, it wasn't the smartest idea but you couldn't stay there and marry someone you didn't want in the first place. You tried to go as far away as you could, jumping from cart to cart. You were hoping to find some money to pay for a train ticket and go west, but you hadn't any money. Actually, all you did since you left was stealing food in order to survive. You tried to not get noticed by anyone because you knew your father would send someone to look for you. He wouldn't let go of the opportunity to increase his fortune that easily.

When the opportunity came you changed your clothes for male ones, trying to hide your long hair under a cowboy hat. You hope that like that nobody would recognize you. You stole someone's holster to get yourself a revolver in case you needed one. You were quite west of the country and you knew there was plenty of outlaws and men who used their gun before anything else. What you needed now was a horse. Maybe you could steal one and sell it to the next town to gain some money to take a train far away from your father. You leaned on the wall of the grocery store examining your surroundings. You looked for horses, there were two in front of the saloon but there also were people outside, so they could see you taking one of them. Another one stood alone by the stables, it had its saddle on ready to go, no one was near so it could be your chance. You were ready to go to it until you noticed the driver from the cart showing the dress you were wearing when you arrived at another man. What they were saying was left unknown, you were too far from them but you were afraid they were talking about you and that man was hired by your father to get you back. You had to act quickly but not too hastily or you will raise suspicion. After talking to the driver the man went to the men in front of the saloon. He talked to them showing him a photography but they shook their head as an answer. The man sighed and look around him until he met your eyes. You startled yourself, but bend your head down trying to hide your face under the hat hoping he didn't recognise you. Slowly you started to move to the stables. By the corner of your eye, you could see he was following you. "Hey!" He called you. He reached you, grab by your shoulder and make you turn to him. He was a tall man, with 3 weeks stubble, a pair of piercing green eyes and not a very friendly face. He looked at you, you didn't dare to move, he took the photo from his pocket and showed it to you. It was you, wearing a beautiful dress sitting in front of your father who was standing his hand on your shoulder. "What is it, mister?" You asked pretending a manly voice. "You lost your fiancée?" "I am looking for her." He said not convinced. He was suspicious of you, you knew it. "She ran away from home. And her father is really worried." "Of course he is..." You smiled with sarcasm trying to get rid of his grip. "You look like her." He pointed. Before you could say anything else he removed your hat releasing your long hair tied on a side braid that fell on your shoulder. You were fucked. "You are coming with me, miss L/N." He stated. "There's no way." You protested trying to get rid of his grip. But he held you strongly, it even hurt. So you only had one chance, you lifted your knee hitting his crotch. He bent in pain releasing you. And you started running to the horse you spotted earlier. "Come back, you little brat!!" He ordered you holding his pain. Of course, you didn't obey him, you reached the horse and started running like your life depended on it. You barely stepped outside the damn town that a rider reached you shouting at you to stop. You turned to see who he was and it was again, the man your father sent to get you back. You spurred your horse trying to make him go faster but the man easily reached your horse and took the reins from yours. "Leave me alone!" you shouted to him hitting him with your elbow to his face. "You brat!" He cursed unnerved. He jumped from his horse to yours making you fall. You landed on the ground with him on top of you. You tried to get him out of you, punching him with both of your fists. He took your wrists to push them in the ground at your head's high looking at you furiously.   "I'm not going back! I don't fucking care how much money my father promised you I just won't 't!" you shouted at him trying to free yourself from his grip, kicking with your legs like crazy. "You listen to me, little brat!" he shouted with authority losing his patience. "You are goin' to do what I tell you to do! You will be coming back to Saint-Denis you liked it or not! So, better if you stay still and cooperate. If not, we will do it in a bad way." You panted tired of all the fighting, frustrated, you yelled. You were unwilling to accept your fate, there must be a way to get away from him but he was strong, his grip was firm he actually hurt your wrists. And he looked determined. "I can't come back..." You said with a small voice more to yourself than to him. "I don't want to..." "That is not my problem." He said raising you on your feet, but he didn't release you from his grip. "You don't understand!" You protested. "If I get back I will have to marry that man, and I don't want him!" "Seriously, princess, I don't care." He took the rope from his belt and tied your wrist together. "I'm paid to get you home, I don't care about your story." "Is this really necessary?" You asked referring to the rope. "Believe me it is. I don't want you to punch me again." Once he finished the knot, he removed your holster and he charged you on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, you couldn't help but protest for the treatment and he put you on his horse."Sit properly." He ordered you, you obeyed straddling the horse. "And give me some space." He jumped behind you and took the reins of his horse, he got sure you were safety sat and he ordered his horse to start walking. "So we are going back to Saint-Denis?" You asked. "Yes..." He answered. "And we are planning to go by horse." You noted. "Yes." "That means at least a week... Or two... Together... With you..." "Trust me, it will be more pleasant if you shut the fuck up." You rolled your eyes. "So tell me. How much my father is paying you, Mr Kidnapper?" "My name is Arthur, I am not a kidnapper I’m just doing my job." He answered bothered. "And it's none of your business since I doubt you can make a counteroffer." "You got a point. But be quite sure I will make every cent worth it. " you turned to him with a sarcastic smile on your face. Arthur looked at you puzzled. "And... what's with the smell?" You asked frowning. You sniffed around you. "Oh my goodness it's from you! You stink! When was the last time you took a bath?" Arthur smelled his clothes annoyed and he could state that yes, the smell was coming from him. "You will get used to it, princess." he declared. “And now, you better shut up or I gag you.” “You won’t dare!” “Try me.”