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yeet-or-be-hawed · 5 years

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“Bloody Knuckles” High Honor!Arthur Morgan x Low Honor!Reader

Okay, it took me forever to get this fic out because I had the separate ideas for art supply store and low honor reader/high honor Arthur but couldn’t quite come up with a solid plan. After playing some Red Dead, I had a very strong urge to beat there ever living shit out of Micah and that sparked this idea! I honestly really like the idea of High Honor Arthur and Low Honor Reader so you’ll probs see more fics like this one in the future!

Fluff with lots of adorable pining! Trigger warning: Violence, sexual harassment, mention of rape (just a threat, but just in case.)

After Arthur fills the pages in his journal, you take him to a small art supply shop to help him pick out a new one.

You rolled into camp mid day. You had been gone for three days to work a robbery but the Pinkertons arrived at impeccable timing. You spent the last two nights sleeping in the woods and you were pissed. Ever since Micah joined your rag tag group, trouble has been behind every corner. At first you thought it was coincidence when your jobs went smoothly while Micah was in jail or camping up near Strawberry. You told yourself it was because he wasn’t there to fly off the handle, but ever since he returned to camp, you weren’t so sure. Blood was dried to your clothes and you were covered in dirt head to toe.

You hitched your horse and made a beeline for your tent. You felt grimy and exhausted. “Come on, girl. Let me get a taste of that chocolate skin.” Your head twisted up in disgust to see no other than Micah cornering Tilly. Usually you don’t have time to get caught up in camp drama, but when Tilly caught your eye, the fear you saw there sent you off the handle. You stormed up behind Micah and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him to face you. “Y/N!” He said in surprise. “So quiet, I didn’t even hear ya come back to camp.” His voice was nervy, knowing he had been caught. You looked at Tilly. “Go on, Ill take care of this trash.”

Tilly nodded and quickly walked in the direction of her tent. Micah sneered at you. “Ya know, I like seeing you get all jealous, warms my heart. You know you’ll always be my favorite.”

You spit at his feet. “I don’t know why but Dutch trusts you. My personally, I wouldn’t trust you farther than I could throw you. I hear one more disgusting remark, see you put one more hand on one of the girls round here, you’ll be dead. Hear me? No questions asked, I can deal with Dutch later.”

“You think killin’ me is gonna be that easy cowpolk?” Micah straightened his back, he was bigger than you and trying to assert dominance.

You laughed, “trust me, had weapons been allowed in camp, youdve been dead long ago.”

Micah scoffed. “Careful sweet thang, or I’ll be comin’ after you next.” He leaned in close and whispered in your ear. “I’ll slit your throat before you wake up, that way no when can hear you scream while I fuck your-“

“Well well, if it ain’t my two favorite people!” Dutch approached you from his tent.

You pushed Micah off you and brushed your clothes. “You May want to reevaluate your favorite people Dutch, it’ll get your throat slit in your sleep one day.” You glared at Micah as you shoved passed Dutch. You gave up warning Dutch long ago. He wasn’t the man you once followed, the Dutch you knew would’ve never let a piece of scum like Micah into their ranks. The Dutch you knew would’ve sent him packing the first time he touched Mary Beth, or tried to pay Abigail for sex. Just about every woman in that camp went to Dutch, voicing their fears and uncomfort with Micah. You recalled Mary Beth crying to Dutch about how Micah had groped her and whispered vile things in her ear and if Charles didn’t walk by when he did, she wouldn’t have gotten out there so quickly. You remembered listening in wholehearted disgust as Dutch defended him, told her not to be so sensitive and Micah didn’t mean it. When Mary Beth ran from Dutch’s tent crying, you barged in and gave Dutch an ear full. The whole camp could hear you screaming at him and he just watched you with cold uncaring eyes. That was the day you decided Dutch wasn’t the man you once knew, nor would he be the man you followed. There was one reason you stayed, and one reason alone. There he was, sitting under a shady oak tree with his nose buried in his journall. Nothing in this world had ever softened your heart like he did.

Your body was tired and you were angry, but there he was, so peaceful and calm. His hair moved with the gentle breeze, this was your destresser. You smiled as you approached him.

“Whatcha workin’ on?” You asked as you approached him from behind.

He looked up at you and smiled. “Ran into Albert again today. He was tryin’ to get pictures of alligators.”

You rolled your eyes, “that man is going to get himself eaten one day.”

Arthur handed you his journal. “I know, that’s what I keep telling him, but the man’s a damned fool.”

You admired the beautiful sketch that took up the last two pages in his journal. Arthur didn’t let anyone look into his journal, most the camp didn’t even realize he could draw much less write. “Arthur, this is beautiful! In another life you would’ve been a famous artist.” You frowned. “Sucks it’s your last page though.”

Arthur rubbed his neck and you handed him the journal. “Yeah, I’m in need of a new one. I already checked at the store in Rhodes and they don’t have any. God knows how long it’ll take me to find another one.”

“I do!” You cried. “In Saint Denis, I saw an art store right beside the tailor!”

“Well alright!” Arthur said as he stood. “I’ll head that way.” He extended a hand down to you. “Want to come with? Looks like you could use a visit to the tailor. And a bath.”

You laughed, “I suppose you’re right. Let me change into some different clothes and splash some water on my face and I’ll be ready.”

“Sounds good!” Arthur turned and waved as he walked towards his tent. Suddenly your body wasn’t so tired and you weren’t in such a bad mood when you made your way to your tent. You dug around in your trunk for your favorite shirt. “Shit, where is it?” You cursed to yourself. You looked down. That’s where it was. You had mistakenly grabbed it and shredded it for bandaging just before you left for your robbery job. You sighed and called to Abigail who shared a tent with you. “Can I borrow one of your shirts? I’m taking Arthur down to Saint Denis.”

She raised an eyebrow at you, “How gentlemanly of you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up. I guess I’ll stop at the tailor to grab a new outfit if you just let me borrow one.”

Abigail crosses her arms. “You gotta let me pick it out.”

You groaned. “Fine, but no skirts, you know I don’t like skirts.”

Abigail rolled her eyes as she went through her blouses. “I know I know. I wish you would just try them though, they’re perfect for this weather, plus I bet Arthur will think it’s cute.” She gave you a knowing look and you turned red.

“No he won’t, because I ain’t cute period.” You crossed your arms stubbornly then sighed. You did like the idea of Arthur thinking your cute. You bit your lip. “Just find me a cute blouse and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“A cute blouse eh?” Abigail giggled. “How about this one?” She lifted up a button down pale blue shirt with little white flowerrs.

“I like it, but they won’t match my pants.”

“Then wear a pair of mine!”

“All of yours are too tight!”

She rolled her eyes and threw you a pair of golden khaki riding pants. “That’s because they’re actually made for women. They wouldn’t feel too tight if you didn’t wear men’s clothes all the time.”

“They’re comfy.” You responded as you changed pants.

“Yeah well comfort won’t catch a man now will it?”

You sighed as you pulled off your top and began buttoning the new one. You turned and looked at your reflection. It always surprised you to see how much curvier you were in women’s clothing. “And a final touch,” Abigail sung as she replaced the old beat up hat on your head for a more feminine sun hat. Floppy yet simple. You groaned. “I dunno Abigail, I think I look funny.”

She leaned her head against your shoulder as you looked in the mirror. “You look adorable, you just ain’t used to wearing proper clothes. Now get out there!” She shoved you hard and you stumbled out of the tent. You almost fell when heavy hands caught you. he chuckled, “careful now.”

You smiled up at him as you leveled your feet. “Thanks Arthur.”

“No problem.” He backed up and looked at you. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in women’s clothes before.”

You blushed and turned away, “I know, I look silly. I just-“ you sighed and felt ridiculous. “Abigail let me borrow some clothes since most of mine are in rags.”

“You look lovely.” He extended his elbow to you, “you ready my lady?”

You tucked a fly away hair behind the sun hat and took his arm. He led you to the horses and unlooped his arm from yours. “You can ride with me if you like.” He offered.

You nodded. “Thank you Arthur, Blue deserves a rest, he’s been on his hooves since the morning I left.”

Arthur mounted his horse and offered you his hand. You took it and he helped you up his horse. “What happened back there by the way? I thought it was only gonna take a day.”

You rolled your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his waist and the horse bolted off. “Pinkertons showed up and ruined the whole damn plan. I swear, its like every job we plan with dumb ass Micah ends with the law knowing exactly how to catch us. Something’s up with him and I know it.”

Arthur nodded. “I can’t stand that snake. I don’t know what Dutch sees in him.”

“Me neither. One of these days I’m gonna knock his teeth out.”

Arthur laughed, “I’d pay to see that.”

“Well, stick around because if I see him touch Tilly one more time I’m gonna rip his arm right out of its socket.”

Arthur laughed, “so violent!” Arthur’s voice changed more serious. “Seriously though, don’t go gettin’ yourself hurt by messin’ with a fool like him. If he ever bothers you, you tell me. I’ll take care of him real fast.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “What, you think I can’t take him on my own?”

“I never said that.” Arthur’s horse slowed to a casual trot as you entered the large city. “This is Saint Denis?” He coughed and gagged. “Smells terrible.”

“Turn here. Yeah, humanity’s greatest advancements. I’m not surprised, humanity has a way of painting a pile of shit gold and calling it divinity.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more.” Arthur tipped his hat to a passing carriage. “The sooner we get outta here, the better.”

“Just keep heading straight. At the end of this street take a left and it should be on the corner up here.”

Arthur followed your directions to the art supply. He pulled his horse to a halt and hitched it in front of the building. He dropped from the horse to let you down. “Such a gentleman!” You laugh.

You walked up the stairs to the shops and Arthur took your hand to lead you through the crowds. You looked down at his big hand wrapped around yours and swallowed the lump growing in your throat. He released your hand when you entered the small art supply shop. “Welcome!” Greeted the shop owner.

“Afternoon, partner.” Arthur responded. You were always so taken aback by Arthur’s polite manners. For someone who grew up as rough as he did, you wondered where those polite mannerisms came from. You split off to explore the store. Art supplies lines the walls, everything from canvas to paint to pencils to things you didn’t even have names for.

“Y/N!” Arthur called in a hushed voice. “Over here.”

You found him surrounded by note books, journals, and sketchbooks. “Wow,” You whispered. “There’s so many to choose from.”

“Which is your favorite?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes, “we’re here for you Arthur, not me.”

He shrugged. “I know, just curious.”

Your eyes studied the books, various styles and shapes. You smiled down at a red brown leather journal, small flowers ran embellished the border and a fox ran down the spine. “I like this one! How about you?”

Arthur was holding one similar, the leather was more brown and it had a deer stamped with ink on the front. He nodded, “I think I’m gonna go with this one. Why don’t you get that one?” He asked as you set yours back on the shelf.

You shrugged. “I’ll come back for it later. I really need to spend my money on some new clothes right now. Although, if you distract the shop keep I can steal it.”

Arthur raised a brow at you then shook his head disapprovingly. “Fine.”

His broad shoulders bumped you as he squeezed between you and the shelf of journals. When Arthur got to the front to pay, you looked down at the shelf and the journal was gone! You frantically looked around the shelf and shifted books out of the way. It was just there? You bent down to search the floor when Arthur called to you from the door. “Let’s go!”

You frowned and met him at the door. He was clutching the brown paper bag the clerk had put his new purchase in. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I couldn’t find the journal! One minute it was there and then it was gone, I guess it’s no big deal but I was hoping you could teach me to draw.”

He looked at you surprised. “Really? Would you rather someone more talented teach you?”

You scoffed and gave his shoulder a shove. “Of course! You’re a very talented artist, Arthur.”

His cheeks turned a slight shade of pink as he rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Nah, it’s just little doodles that’s all.”

The look on his face when he talked down to himself always made your heart ache. You could see through the sad smile he was trying to pass off. “Why do you always do that?” You asked.

“Do what?”

“You always talk about how bad you are and how ugly you are. You can’t even admit that you’re good at the things you enjoy like drawing and writing!” You huffed. “I just hate seeing you put yourself down, you’re your own worst enemy and you’re just so-“ You cut yourself off. You could feel him staring at you and your cheeks flushed. You looked away and quickly changed the subject. “So, do you need anything while we’re at the tailor?”

He cleared his throat and stroked his thick beard. “I guess I could use a new vest.” He pulled his finger through a hole in the side seem of his worn down vest. “What kinda clothes are you thinkin’?”

“I definitely need some new shirts and pants. I uh, I was thinking I would buy some more women’s clothes.”

“Like a skirt?” Arthur asked. He didn’t laugh, but you still felt embarrassed.

“I dunno, I feel like I look weird in ladies clothes.” Your eyes stayed on the ground feeling rather self conscious.

He put his hand on the small of your back and you looked up at him. He greeted your gaze with a kind smile. “I think you’ll look lovely in whatever you choose.”

Your whole face turned bright red and you tripped over your words. “Oh I...t-thank you Arthur.”

A small bell chimes as he held the door open for you. The boutique was filled with fancy dresses, trousers, skirts. Blouses of every style and color hung from the walls. Arthur’s hand did not stray from your waist and you took comfort in the warmth of his hand. Arthur seemed to be having more fun with this than you, pulling pieces out to show you left and right. He did always have such nice style, so you trusted in his opinion. You laughed as he pulled ridiculous things and he made silly faces. He draped your pieces over his arm, not allowing you to hold any of it. Even when you pulled out a lovely vest he quickly snagged it and threw it over his arm. After you exhausted the women’s side of the boutique, you moved to the men’s side. Arthur shook his head in disapproval every time you lifted an over sized ranch shirt up for yourself. You’d roll your eyes, but you couldn’t help but recall your conversation with Abigail. You decided to step out of your comfort zone and Arthur was helping.

“Just a vest, my ass.” You taunted as Arthur added a pair of pants over his shirt and two vests. “Are you sure you don’t want me to carry anything?”

“No!” Arthur said defensively as you tried to snatch the clothes from his hand. “Damn it woman I’m finished lookin’ anyways.” He led you to the fitting rooms and handed you your pile. As he turned to his separate room he pointed a finger at you, “now I want to see those on you before you go sayin’ they look ‘weird.’”

“Fine fine, but if I should you mine you show me yours!” You joked as you closed the door to your room.

“Ha ha, very funny.” You heard him call sarcastically from his room.

The first outfit you tried on had navy riding pants and a fitted pink button down, accented with navy buttons and outlining. You added a white floral vest to it and examined it in the mirror before stepping out. “I dunno,” you called to Arthur. “I like the colors, but do you think it’s, I don’t know...too frilly?”

Arthur stepped out in his new chocolate pants, beige button down, and a paisley vest, mostly dark crimson with accents of various shades of brown. The clothes hugged his body perfectly and the vest accented his broad shoulders and chest. You cleared your voice, trying not to stare. “Looks good.”

He looked over your outfit and smiled as he adjusted his sleeves. “Back at ya, I think it looks perfect. You just ain’t used to something that isn’t a hand me down from Hosea or John.”

You punched his shoulder as you stepped back into the dressing room. “Thanks.” You said sarcastically.

Your next outfit had brown high waisted trousers and a red blouse, the material was thin and felt soft against your skin. You tucked your shirt in and smiled, this felt more like you. You fixed your collar as you walked out of your fitting room. Arthur was leaning against the doorway, the only change in his outfit was the color of his vest. This one was olive green with golden accents. “Very nice.” You said. “That one is definitely my favorite, which are you gonna go with?”

He shrugged. “Both probably. I like the red, but I gotta go with what the pretty lady says.”

You rolled your eyes as you turned back into the dressing room. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do.” He muttered.

You picked up the last outfit. A good pair of denim work pants and a linen top, perfect for the upcoming warm weather. Arthur had just stepped out of his fitting room in his original clothes, the pieces he had just tried on slung over his arm. “Whatcha think?” You ask.

He looks down at you and smiled. “Looks like it’s your favorite.”

“It is.” You smiled back.

He put a hand on your shoulder. “Then it’s my favorite. Hurry up and try on that last outfit.” He took a seat in a chair just outside the fitting rooms. “I’ll be right here.”

You gave him a confused look and turned back to the fitting room. “There isn’t anoth-“

“Yes there is!” He called back to you. You looked down and saw the chemise first. It’s material was soft and sheer. Underneath it was a beautiful blue material with tiny pinstripes, it reminded you of Arthur’s favorite shirt. Your cheeks flushed when you picked it up and it unfolded into a skirt. Abigail’s voice rang in your head, “I bet Arthur will think it’s cute.” Her teasing voice echoing in your mind.

You sighed and pulled on the chemise then hitched the skirt to your waist. You turned to the mirror and looked over the outfit. The way the skirt hugged the small of your waist made you look so tiny and the chemise was more low cut than you were comfortable with, but it silhouetted your body perfectly. When you walked out of the fitting room, Arthur was fiddling with this fingers. You cleared your throat and smiled shyly. He cleared his throat as his eyes trailed up and down your body. “That’s uh, that looks real..good.” He tripped over his words and his cheeks flushed. “I know you don’t normally wear skirts but I saw it and I just” He sighed. “It was my favorite color and I thought it would nice on you.” He looked up at you from under the brim of his hat with a sheepish smile. “You can put it back if you don’t like it I just-“

“I like it. I want to wear it out.”

He cleared his throat again, “good I’m glad you like it. I’m gonna go pay for my stuff while you get your stuff. Meet me outside when you get done.”

You nodded and turned to the fitting room to gather your things. Arthur has already paid and was standing against the building outside when you came out. When the owner gave you your price at the register, you tried to correct him; surely it was supposed to be more. He pointed out the window towards Arthur. “The fella you’re with paid for the clothes you’re wearing. He seems like a keeper, that one does.”

“Yeah, he does.” You said as you handed him your money. You gave him a wave as you exited the store. He looked up and smiled as you walked out of the store. He put his arm around your waist. “Want to grab a bite to eat before we head home?”

“I’d love to, but you’re letting me pay this time.”

He looked down at you, his brows furrowed. “What? No. I’m paying.”

You groaned. “Arthur, I can’t let you buy me clothes and dinner, you’ve already spent enough on me. It’s not like this is a date or anything.” You joked.

Arthur tried to hide the disappointment on his face under the brim of his hat as grip on your waist loosened. “Oh. Well, I was hopin’....”

You looked up at him in surprise and pulled his hand back down to you. “It’s a date then.”

He smiled and his grip on you tightened. As you walked together to the saloon you flirted and laughed and it felt so natural. He held the door open for you and led you to the nearest table. “I’ll be right back.”

You watched as he walked to the bartender and ordered. After a few moments he returned with two plates. Your mouth watered as he sat your plate in front of you. A big piece of prime rib took up the majority of the plate with a side of potatoes. You were both quiet as you ate, both too focused on how delicious the food was. After you finished your plate you let out a loud belch, awarding you with a hearty laugh from Arthur. “I’m stuffed. Thank you Arthur, that was great. A whole hell of a lot better than whatever Pearson cooked up tonight.”

Arthur wiped his mouth. “Damn straight. It’s starting to get late, you ready to head home?”

You nodded. “Sounds good to me.” Arthur stood and offered you his hand. You took it and he intertwined his fingers with your as you walked out of the saloon. The sun was barely visible on the horizon, the sky mostly hues of dark blue. With his spare hand, Arthur whistled loudly for his horse.

“I’ve been meaning to do this for awhile now, take you out I mean.” He stroked his beard, “probably about as long as you’ve been riding with us.”

His horse came around the corner and you moved into the street. He put his hands around your waist and hoisted you onto the saddle. He sat behind you and pulled his arms around you to give the reigns a quick flick. You leaned back and he settled his chin on top of your head. “What a silly ol’ fool I am for waitin’ this long. Guess I always thought I wasn’t good enough for this.” He held his reigns loosely in one hand as he snaked the other around you and gave you a squeeze.

You buried your face into his chest. “I don’t know where your self hatred comes from, but I wish I could take it away from you. I wish you could see the you I see. The funny handsome man who is the kindest soul I’ve ever met. You’re so genuine, I’ve never met someone quite like you. You give me hope that maybe I could be a good person one day.”

His voice was soft in your ear. “You’re already a good person. “

“Not as good as you. I’ve killed and robbed more men, women, and children than I can count. I never really cared til I met you, you make me want to be better.”

He kissed your ear softly. “I don’t believe you could get any better than this.”

He half buried his face in your hair, keeping his eyes on the road. The soft buzzing of the crickets around you soothed you and your body began to fall back into the exhaustion you felt this morning. Your eyes felt heavy as you rested against his chest. “We’re almost there darlin’, I’m sorry I’ve kept you out so late.”

“S Okay, I’m not tired.”

He smiled. “You’re a bad liar.”

“I know.” You yawned and closed your eyes.

You didn’t even feel the horse slow to a stop. Arthur placed a kiss on the top of the head. “We’re here, sweetheart.”

He slipped down the horse and pulled you down gently. “I had so much fun today Arthur. I came home feeling terrible and you turned my whole day around. I wasn’t expecting this.” You spoke softly as he walked you to the tent, most of the camp already asleep. His fingers brushed yours and you tangled yours with his. “Me neither.” You approached your tent and you heard Abigail snoring softly. You stood staring at each other under the moon light. His thumb rubbed your hand softly. “I should let you go on then, it’s getting late.”

“Okay.” You whispered.

He let out a shaky breath and put his large palm on your face. You leaned into him as he pulled you close and gave you the softest kiss you had ever had. His lips were smooth on yours and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling his body tightly against yours. When he pulled away from you, you could see the redness on his cheeks and could feel his heart pounding against his chest. “I uh, I should go. Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Arthur.” You watched has he walked away, your fingers against your lips.

You almost jumped out of your skin when you entered the tent, Abigail was sitting wide awake on your bed. “Shit! Abigail, were you awake the whole time?”

She smiled at you widely, “I dunno, was that the sound of lip smacking I just heard out there?”

You threw your pillow at her. “Shut up!”

“Ahhh no way!” She squealed. She looked you up and down. “I see you changed your mind on skirts.” She said pointedly towards your new clothes.

“He picked it out for me, he said he was his favorite color.” You smiled down at the skirt as you fummed with the material.

“Shut up, that’s adorable. Tell me everything!” You stayed up late with Abigail and gave her all the details as you showed her your new clothes.

Arthur woke up early the next morning and pulled himself out of bed to make the morning coffee. Arthur couldn’t help but play back the night before on loop in his head. He couldn’t get over the way your lips felt on his, the way your body felt against his. When he finished the coffee, he turned and found the ususal early morning coffee group talking as he approached. He poured his own cup then handed the kettle to Sadie. “Mornin’ Arthur.” She handed the kettle to Abigail, who then handed it down to Tilly.

“So Arthur,” Tilly said in a mischievous tone. “I heard you and Y/N didn’t get back from Saint Denis until late last night.”

He rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Oh hush, its not like we did anything promiscuous.” He stared down into his coffee and could already feel the heat rising in his cheeks.

Sadie smacked him in the gut, “Arthur! I didn’t expect you to be such a lady killer.”

Arthur his his face under the brim of his hat, “Shuddup.”

Tilly giggled, “I didn’t think you had such a soft spot Arthur. I think it’s sweet.”

Abigail smiled as she took a sip from her coffee. “I do too.”

Arthur was bright red now and he stammered over his words. I don’t- you sh-“ he groaned. “Don’t you ladies have something better to do right now?”

Tilly laughed and Sadie rolled her eyes as the girls turned to walk away. When Abigail turned to leave, Arthur caught her shoulder, “Wait, can you do me a favor?”

She turned to him. “Sure, whatcha need?”

He pulled a small brown bag from his satchel and hands it to Abigail. His voice grew soft and his eyes were full of admiration as he stared down at the small brown parcel. “Can you leave this on her nightstand?”

“Of course.” Abigail turned to leave then turned her head over her shoulder. “You did a good job picking out that skirt by the way.”

“I thought so too.” He muttered to himself as he finished his coffee.

“Arthur!”

He looked up to see Dutch approaching him. “Good morning, my boy!” He hooked a heavy arm around Arthur’s shoulders and pulled him towards the horses. “I’m meeting Sheriff Gray in town and I want you to join me.”

“Okay, how long’s this gonna take?” He said as he looked longingly to your tent.

“Not long. We’ll be back by early afternoon.”

Arthur nodded and he mounted his horse. He knew you wouldn’t be awake for a few more hours, but he was disappointed he wouldn’t be there when you found your gift.

“Let’s go.” Arthur said and dug in his spurs.

When you woke, the morning sun was already high in the sky. You stretched and slowly pulled yourself out of bed. You yawned as you pulled on your denim work pants and linen shirt. You reached for your hat on the night stand and stopped. Sitting beside your hat was the small paper bag from the art store, your name scrolled across the top in Arthur’s beautiful handwriting and a fox drawn under your name. You reached in and pulled out the journal you had picked out in the art store. “That sneaky bastard,” you whisper as you run your fingers across across the cover.

You put the journal into your satchel and grabbed your hat, eager to show Abigail. You found her doing laundry and as she saw you turn the corner, she jumped up and ran to you. “What was in that bag?” She asked excitedly before you could even say anything.

You reached into your satchel and pulled it out. Her hand came to her mouth as she gasped. “This is gorgeous! He gave me the bag to give to you this morning at coffee and I’ve been dying to know what it was!” She handed it back to you. “He’s got it bad for you, ya know.”

You smiled sheepishly, “you think so?”

“Pfft, you should have seen him this morning! Sadie and Tilly were grillin’ him about you two getting back so late. I’ve never seen that man get so flustered. I’ve known him a long time and I ain’t never seen him like this before.”

The image of Arthur’s blushing cheeks in the moonlight and shaky breath came to the forefront of your mind and butterflies formed in your stomach. You looked around the camp, “where is he anyways?”

“Dutch took him out early this morning. John said they’ll be back soon.”

You smiled. “Good.”

You looked at each other when you heard Ms. Grimshaw cussing Karen. “I gotta get back to work. I’ll find you later when I’m done.” She waved as she turned away.

“See you.” You called as you turned away. You made your way to Arthur’s spot under the oak tree and pulled out your new journal. This spot had a perfect view of the camp and the lake behind it. No wonder Arthur spent so much time here, it was beautiful. You watched as Kieran and Lenny cared for the horses. You began drawing all the gang’s horse, starting with your own. With each new horse you drew, they slowly improved.

The last horse you drew was Silver Dollar. You flipped through the pages of different horses you had drawn, playing with different styles and angles.

The air was warm and the shade from the tree kept you comfortable. You closed your eyes and rested against the tree.

“Get yer hands off me Micah.” Abigail hissed.

You opened your eyes and turned towards the sound of her voice. Micah had Abigail cornered down alone down the small hill outside of camp where the extra supply wagon was. He had a hold of his wrist. “You’re fiesty, I like that.” He grabbed her waist. “I like you.”

You grabbed your journal and ran down the hill towards them. Micah dropped her hands as he saw you coming towards them. “Abigail!” You called. Out of his grasp, she ran to meet you. “I think John was lookin’ for ya.” You told her loudly as you eyed Micah. As she passed, she gave you a concerned look and you gave her a small nod.

“Well well, already tired of ol’ Morgan? I knew you’d come running eventually but not this soon.” Micah’s tone was sarcastic.

“I don’t know what yer talkin’ about.” You responded flatly as you approached him.

Micah moved closer. “I saw you two sneakin’ back into camp last night, all cozied up” He closed the distance between you and whispered in your ear. “I always knew you were a little whore.”

“Shut her goddamn mouth.” You spat. “I told you, next time you harassed them you’d be dead.”

Micah spoke low, his tone menacing. “And I told you I’d slit your throat in your sleep.” He paused and a smiled twisted on his lips. “But ya know, now that I know you and Arthur are so close now, I could just tie ya up one night.” He pulled his knife and ran it across your chin. “I’ll tie you up while you sleep, cut off your clothes, and I’ll let all the trash in Rhodes take their turns with you and when they’re done I’ll take my turn. when I’m done I’ll dump you at his feet like the used up trash you are.”

You leaned in close to his face. “Ya know Micah,” You whispered. “I can’t understand a goddamn word yer sayin’.” You quickly jabbed him in the stomach, causing him to drop his knife. You kicked it out of reach when he doubled over. You looked over him coldly. “I can’t understand ya over all the shit fallin’ out of yer mouth.”

He groaned in pain. “That was a mistake, cow Polk.”

You pulled your leg back and kicked him hard in the stomach while he was still doubled over in pain. “You’re the mistake, you piece of scum.”

You underestimated how fast he was as he grabbed your leg and jerked you towards him. You fell to the ground in front of him and he grabbed your face in one hand. “You’re out of your league girlie.” His fist crashed into your cheek.

You sneered at Micah, “that’s my advantage cowpolk.” He was knelt down on one knee, leaving himself stupidly open. Your fist came up straight into his crotch. “You’re not fighting a man and I could care less about fighting dirty.”

You stood quickly and stomped his back hard, forcing his body down onto the ground. As you raised your leg for a second stomp he rolled out of the way quickly and swept his leg under you, throwing you back to the ground. He kicked you in the ribs and you cried out in pain. “Damn you,” you growled as you crawled to your feet. You threw a punch but he dodged, and caught you right in the mouth. Blood drenched your chin and ran down your shirt.

“Hate to ruin that pretty little mouth” Micah mocked. “But I just can’t wait to see how Morgan will be when he sees what’s left of you when I get done.”

You looked down at your now ruined shirt, covered in your own blood. You were boiling with your own rage as you tackled him to the ground and began slamming your fist into his face. “This was a new shirt you son of a bitch!”

“Everything okay down there?” You looked up to see John and Abigail standing at the top of the hill.

Micah’s fist caught you square in the jaw while you were distracted and he pulled himself on top of you.

“Holy shit!” You heard John yell.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Micah growled as he wrapped his hands around your throat and began to strangle you. You clawed at his face, “we’ll we about that,” You croaked as your nails found his eyes and you dug in hard. You felt his grip loosen and Micah’s hands flew up to his eyes as he howled him pain. You shoved him down and looked down at him in pure hatred. “Going for the kill this quickly in a fight? I always knew you were a coward.” You brought a strong blow down onto his nose. Your vision was turning red in a blind rage. “I. Am. Going. To. Destroy. You.” Your fist collided with his face between each word. Someone tried to pull you off and you jabbed your elbow up into them, determined to beat Micah’s skull into the ground until it was a pile of goo.

“Son of a bitch!” John shouted. “Abigail, go get Charles, I need some help.”

You barely heard him over the buzzing in your ears. Micah’s face was completely covered in blood. Your knuckles were split and bleeding but you couldn’t feel them over the adrenaline. Micah was now unconscious under you but you gave him your word, if he touched another woman in camp, you would put him six feet under and you intended to make good on your word.

Two pairs of hands now grabbed you and lifted you effortlessly off Micah. You kicked and fought, “Let go of me!” You hissed.

Charles kept a tight grip on your arm. “It’s done, Y/N.”

“You’ve beat him enough, it’s done. He’s out cold.” John urged.

“He was touchin’ Abigail!” You shouted back. Your vision was beginning to clear and you noticed the small crowd that had formed at the top of the hill.

“She told me, and we’ll make sure somethin’ is done about it this time. You just can’t kill him before Dutch gets back. You’ve got blood all over your face and hands, you may want to get yourself cleaned up.” He put a hand on your shoulder. “You did good.”

You nodded, before you turned to leave, you spit on Micah’s face. “I ain’t done with you.” You said angrily down at his unconscious body.

Arthur tried to keep pace with Dutch, but he kept pulling ahead. He was anxious to see you, they were getting back later than intended which was no surprise to Arthur. “What’s got you in such a rush?” Dutch called to Arthur.

“Nothin’. Just ready to get home.” Arthur responded.

“Arthur, don’t take me for a fool. I hear the gossip just as much as you.” Dutch’s voice softened. “Where’d you take her?”

Arthur sighed. “We went to an art supplies store and had dinner in Saint Denis.”

“Well that’s splendid son! Good to see you finally makin’ yer move.” Dutch crossed in front of Arthur’s horse. “Since you’re in such a hurry to get back, how about an ol’ fashioned race back to camp?”

Arthur smiled, “You’re on, old man!”

The two took off and left clouds of dust in their wake. Arthur’s heart was pounding. He found himself longing for your touch, now he had a small taste he couldn’t get enough. The familiar tree line came into view, “yah!” He cried as he pushed his spurs into his horse. You were so close now, it was all he could think about. He didn’t even notice Dutch slip passed him until the last second. “Shit!”

Arthur charged into camp just behind Dutch. “You got lucky this time, old man.” He called as he dismounted his horse.

“Luck don’t got nothin’ to do with it, son.” Dutch teased as he hitched The Count. Arthur barely heard him as he made a beeline for your tent, but he stopped to investigate the small crowd around Micah’s tent. He grabbed Sean by the shoulder, “Whats goin’ on here?”

Sean grinned, “You and Dutch missed the fight of the century, ya did. Micah got the hell beat out of him.”

He looked over Bill’s shoulder and saw Micah’s unconscious body, covered in dried blood and bruises. He raised his eyebrows. “Shit, I’d hate to see the other guy.”

Sean slapped Arthur’s back, “That’s the best part, he got himself handed to him a little girlie. It took two men to pull her offa him.”

“Aw hell,” Arthur knew right then and there you were responsible. He half ran to your tent. When he ducked him, you were sitting on your bed, wearing your chemise with your denim work pants. The chemise was clean but the pants were covered in dirt. You looked up from your book and smiled. “Welcome back.”

He frowned when he saw your face, no where near as badly beaten as Micah’s but your lip was busted and your cheeks were swollen. “What the hell happened?”

You laughed nervously. “I kinda...got into a fight with Micah.”

He sat beside you on your cot and eyed your face worriedly. “I heard. You gave him one hell of a beating.”

You smiled smugly, “I told you I could take him.”

He gently took your chin between his thumb and pointer finger and investigated your face. “You did, but look what he did to this pretty face.” His thumb gently brushed your broken lip and you flinched. “I ought to kill him for this.” His voice was stern. “What happened?”

“I-” Dutch burst into your tent.

“What the hell happened between you and Micah?” Dutch looked over you in shock, your wounds minimal compared to Micah’s.

You crossed your arms, “Jesus Dutch, what do you think happened? He was trying to touch Abigail again. Last time I caught him cornin’ Tilly I warned him I would kill him if he decided to touch us again. I intended to keep my word until John and Charles pulled me off.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to beat the man close to death!” Dutch raised his voice.

You stood, you could feel your anger rising again. “If would’ve done something about him sooner, this would never have happened! I’ve came to you time and time again about Micah harassin’ us and you never did shit. He threatened to rape me Dutch, what the hell did you expect me to do?”

Arthur looked from you to Dutch. “He what?” His voice heavy with anger.

Dutch huffed. “Fine, fine! You’re off the hook. But no more fighting in camp. You know the rules.” He turned and left. You rolled your eyes and floppped down beside Arthur. “‘YoU kNoW tHe RuLeS’” you repeated in a mocking voice. “One a these days I’m gonna ring his neck.”

Arthur just stared at you in disbelief. “How do you have more balls than all the men in camp combined?”

You laughed and laid your head in his lap. “I guess you boys just need to toughen up.” Your tone softened. “I never thanked you for the journal, by the way. I found it when I woke up this morning.”

He stoked your hair, “I’m glad you like it darlin’.”

His eyes fell on the blood splattered shirt on the ground. “Is that your new shirt?”

“Oh yeah, it may or may not have gotten ruined when Micah busted my lip. I’ll have to go to Saint Denis and get another if you’d like to join me?”

He smirked, “are you askin’ me on a second date?”

You grinned up at him. “Sure am.”

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