So, before I start this story I must forewarn you that there WILL be spoilers to the ending of this game. I highly recommend that if you don't want any spoilers, that you click away now and you finish the main story of the game. Trust me it's worth it.
Another thing about this story is that it's canon divergent. I want to try and keep it close to the events that happened in the main story minus specific things (i.e.: Arthur's death, Abigail's pregnancy, and more as I go along with the story), and I want to try and create something that is extremely different then the kinds of situations that Arthur has ever dealt with in his life time.
This story will also be a slow burn, and since this my first fic in this series, ideas, constructive criticism, and love is always welcome. If you feel like I can do some characters better let me know so that way I can give you all something enjoyable and realistic.
This will be rated M for violence, and other things that I don't want to spoil for this story.
Annabel pushed her gelding up the path towards the Wapiti Reservation in hopes that she's not too late. Her white buckskin; with flared nostrils, straining muscles, and loud whines, did his best to climb up the path fast. She cursed herself for leaving them by themselves for a few days, she should have known better.
As she came up on the final stretch of path up towards the reservation, she slowed her gelding to a trot before hopping off of him without even stopping him.
"Captain Monroe!" she pulled on the reins to hitch him up, patting his neck as she passed and ran to Captain Monroe. She lifted her skirt a bit to keep from tripping or ripping the hem. "Captain Monroe! I got your telegram, I am so sorry I couldn't come sooner."
Captain Monroe's face softened and his shoulder released the tension that he didn't realize that he was holding, "Dr. Fletcher, thank god you're here!" He walked to her and guided her towards who needed her attention, "Some of the children are growing incredibly sick. Please," he begged her, a look of pain washed over his face, "Can you help them?"
"I will do what I can." Her soft, sympathetic smile was calming to him, giving him a slight ease of mind that everything will be okay.
As she and Monroe walked towards her horse to grab her medical supplies, a man rode up. He was… scruffy looking, but everything about him caught Annabel's eyes.
"Captain Monroe?" his voice was as rough as he looked, causing her soul to vibrate and the hair to stand on the back of her neck. He glanced at her, confused and curious all at once, but she could tell he was here for something else.
"Mr. Morgan." Monroe nodded towards the newcomer, placing a hand on Annabel's shoulder, "He's gonna help us."
"Help us how?"
"I don't know yet, but I will figure it out."
As this Mr. Morgan dismounted and hitched his horse, he realized how small this woman was. She must have been a foot shorter then him, carrying what looked like some heavy bags from her tall horse. The horse's withers were a bit taller than her.
"Let me grab that for ya, miss –"
"Dr. Fletcher." She corrected, as she let him take her bag, "I am Dr. Fletcher."
"Where'd a little missy like you learn to be a doctor?"
"Pennsylvania." Her voice was soft and eloquent and warm and so… inviting, "And if you would please place the bag on the table over there that would be amazing."
"Well, Here I am, as promised." He walked up the Monroe, with Annabel and her bag in tow. He placed her back carefully on the table and tipped his hat to her.
"The chief's gone out trying to find medication." He watched as Annabel worked on pulling out simple tonics and other items from the bags, handing some things to Captain Monroe, "It's quite a business."
She lingered for a moment, looking between both the men before taking a pair of gloves and some of the tonics to go towards the children in need of something to ease their ailments.
"I can handle things until you get back, I'll take care of everyone here."
"Thank you, Dr. Fletcher." She smiled again, tipping her head to Arthur before walking off.
"So…" Arthur wasn't sure if he should even ask about it.
"She's been a great help to this reservation and me."
"She's young."
"And extremely bright. This place would a lot worse without her." They both watched as she was gentle and caring, giving the bitter tonics to the least sick children and moving on to the next. Arthur shrugged and continued to talk with Monroe before they both left with their horses, with talk of stealing the medicine from the U.S. Army.
Monroe came back thirty minutes later, when Annabel was taking a moment to feed some of the weaker elders. She looked up at him, looking exhausted and worn out but she still had that sweet smile on her face.
She tried her best to help the few who came to her get comfortable before walking to Monroe.
"How are things?" she sighed, pursing her lips and looking away.
"Some of the kids are in terrible condition. Their fevers are growing, they have the chills and the tonics I have are only for mild symptoms." She looked slightly desperate for a miracle, and so was Monroe. "We need medicine, but neither you nor I can require that."
"Well, Mr. Morgan said he would help."
"Help how?" Monroe looked slightly ashamed, "Is he… stealing it from them?"
"Yes." She groaned and turned away, "What other choice did I have?" she looked out towards the camp, with the sun dropping down past the mountains leaving the sky kissed with pinks and reds and oranges. These people were suffering, and she had no right to be angry about stealing something that would help them heal, even in the slightest.
"Are they oral?"
"No, they need to be injected."
"Do they come with the needles?"
"Yes." She took a deep breath and look over to him, hope filling her soul.
"I will go clean up then."
They waited an hour, checking in on the sick folk around them and waiting anxiously for the man to return with the much needed medicine. Annabel was worried the most about this situation. A man that they barely knew was stealing something from the government to help those in need. The situation sounded a lot like something her father would do, and near the end of her thoughts she couldn't be worried about it anymore.
She her hooves coming in the distance and she suddenly grew anxious again. She hoped – prayed – that he had the medicine.
He dismounted, did a quick scan of the camp, looking for the two from earlier. He wondered how much this medicine would help and how this will affect both Captain Monroe and Dr. Fletcher.
"Captain Monroe." He called out, but saw Annabel first, "Dr. Fletcher." She had a small smile from that, "I've got the medicine." Captain Monroe perked up at the, and Annabel sat up from her chair.
"Oh, wonderful. That's great news, Mr. Morgan." They started to exchange the small boxes of vials, opening each box to make sure that nothing was broken.
"Yeah, well. Don't worry, it… it didn't go to bad." Annabel looked up at him with question, and she wanted to ask what he did, and what he does in general but she wasn't here to be invasive, she was here to heal.
"Well, I'll have to take your word for that." She took both the boxes from Monroe and started to get ready. Monroe looked at Annabel briefly who merely nodded and let go of a deep sigh. "We could both swing for this."
"Yeah, well, it's not like it's the first time the idea hung over my head." Annabel looked up at him and her breath hitched a little.
"Maybe, I just hope that Colonel Favours thinks he was robbed by bandits, and not…"
"Oh no, I'm still a bandit. There ain't no doubt about that."
"Of course." Monroe shook Arthur's hand, "Well, we better get to work. Thank you, Mr. Morgan."
Arthur tipped his hat towards Annabel, and she smiled at him this time he could see the exhaustion setting over her face but she still had time to give him something incredibly sweet. "Bandit or not, this was a good thing. Maybe it'll get us both killed, but it has to be done."
"I hope so." He started to walk away, and Annabel started to feel something bubble in her chest. He did this without getting anything in return. For a bandit, that seems too noble. She quickly dug through her bag for something – anything – to give him.
"Mr. Morgan!" she grabbed two small tonic bottles and ran towards him, lifting her skirt with one hand and holding the materials in the other. "Wait, hold on!" he stopped and turned, looking intrigued but not surprised. "Take this." She gently placed the small bottles in his gloved hands, "I wish I had more to give you, but right not this will have to do." She pointed to each one, "One's for stomach aches and the other is for common cold symptoms. Hopefully they will be of use to you."
"Thank you, miss." He smiled this time, no tipping of his hat, no nodding of his head. "This alone is too much."
"Nonsense." She waved him off, "If you or anyone you know needs medical assistance, I'm near a cliff overlooking Donner Falls. You can't miss it."
"Thanks again."
"Be safe riding out there, Mr. Morgan." And with a wave in his direction, she walked off to go back to healing those who needed healing.
Somehow; somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered about her.
And for the rest of his ride back to camp, she didn't leave his mind.
He couldn't remember where exactly she said her place was, but he knew he was going into the general direction.
"Find Donner Falls…" he muttered to himself, patting his stallion on the neck as he climbed up the trial. He had traveled for a few days all over the country side, and he was without a doubt in need of more of those tonics that she gave him.
Not for himself however.
Poor Jack had fallen ill with cold.
Or he thinks it was a cold. Either way, he hoped that she would be able to help.
He let himself enjoy the sky as the sun started to rise over the snowcapped mountains, painting the sky with pinks and reds and oranges leaving a cheerful and happy tone to the world. Almost as if to say today was gonna be a good day.
He chuckled at the thought, pulling out his journal to get some sort of picture out onto paper. If only he had colors to truly get the feeling of the morning.
His horse trotted up the path for a little bit longer before they came over a small hill and over looked into the canyon. Donner Falls. Mist came up, giving off a refreshing smell that differs from the smell of mud and raw earth. The slight smell of fish, fresh water and the sound of elk calls in the distance helped him remember why he was here.
To seek freedom.
Freedom within nature.
And himself.
He pulled on the reins, making his horse halt and leaned on the horn. He had to look a little bit before he saw the wood cabin overlooking the falls. It was charming, in a way, to be somewhere so beautiful but also so damn dangerous.
"Well I'll be damned…" he chuckled, squeezed his legs and pulling the reins to guide his horse back to the path. It was refreshing to see, really. Someone that is within this mess live in a place so gorgeous.
He crossed over the river, had his stallion carefully climbed over the rocks and walked over to the hitching post.
"Hello?" he heard something fall and clatter inside the house before the door opened.
There was no hesitation in her actions as she walked out into the world, unarmed and trusting, with a smile on her face, sleeves rolled up and an apron around her waist.
"Ah, Mr. Morgan." Her smile grew bigger, and he started to notice her features better than their last encounter. Dark brown eyes that were covered by thick lashes, her lips were plump, wet and soft and the smile that graced them did it justice. Her eyebrows were well maintained and thick and… well… She definitely got some great features from her parents.
He removed his hat from head, holding it to his chest. "Dr. Flet–."
"Oh, please Mr. Morgan." Her laugh was glorious, and light and it made his chest hurt, "Anna is fine with me if it's fine with you." She wiped her hands on her white apron, "Dr. Fletcher was also my mother."
"Oh." He licked his lips for a second, realizing how chapped they were, "Then call me Arthur."
"Alright, Arthur." She moved to the side, motioning to the door. "Come on in, and I'll see what I can do to help you."
"Thank you."
She waved at him as he galloped off onto the trail. Annabel always found enjoyment in help those who needed it.
"Little bell." She looked over at her father, who wheeled himself over to the front door, "He was a nice feller." She laughed lightly at her father's comment.
"That he was, definitely not like the other bandits I have heard of, or seen for that matter."
"Hopefully, he comes by again. I could see his enjoyment towards you."
"Papa!" she tapped his arm, "Let's get you inside, I made some Lunch."
I truly hope you enjoyed this chapter. I hope next chapter will be a bit longer, and the start of the actual story.
Let me know!
-Red