Author's Word: I don't own any of the RDR2 world, its characters, etc. I know there are Arthur/Mary pairings and Arthur/Sadie pairings, so as unorthodox as it is, I made my own pairing between Arthur and a character I made up.
Author's Note: Okay, so...I originally was up to 70 chapters before I decided to say screw it and start over. Part of the reason is because most people are NOT GOING PAST THE FIRST CHAPTER!!! Barely anyone was reviewing, save for Ronin Kenshin, bless their heart.
So please review and tell me what is do bad about the first chapter that most of you don't want to continue. The original storyline I had going was FANTASTIC! AND IT'S! GONNA GET BETTER WITH THIS REWRITE! MORE DETAILED! So please read past the first chapter. Review, fav, and/or follow. If you don't go past this chapter, then you are missing out! So don't miss out!
Also, some of the other characters are based off Irish folklore, like The Morrigan, so...yeah. They're not my creations either.
Chapter 1: The Snow and The Cave
It was cold. Too damn cold. The spring of 1899 decided to hold off for one last snowy blizzard of the season and Lillian Rose O'Callaghan was not happy in the slightest. Not only was she stuck in what she described as a tundra of danger, Lilly had been separated from her group known as the Van der Linde gang. After a boat robbery had gone awry in Blackwater the posse had been forced north, chased and hounded by the law. Although Lilly was certain she was safe from marshalls and deputies, the wilderness was the forefront of her worries. And to make matters worse, her horse Holly had a broken leg.
While the humane thing to do would be to put the poor thing out of its misery, Lilly was torn. Having raised the Tennessee Walker as a foal, it was heartbreaking to see. Lilly had found what she hoped was an abandoned cave out of the storm and had coaxed her loyal companion inside. After having settled with a small fire, Lilly held the head of Holly in her lap, rubbing the horse's neck in affection and comfort. Holly nickered in distress.
"Shh, me girl," said Lilly, in a thick Irish accent. "I know it hurts. It's goin' tah be okay."
Lilly kissed Holly's head as tears welled up in her eyes. She knew her beloved horse would never be able to survive well with the broken leg, even when she had laced it up in a makeshift sling to keep Holly from putting weight on it. Even holding the leg steady while Holly walked on her other three limbs was physically taxing. Under different circumstances, Lilly would have stayed by her day and night to mend her back to health. However, as there was a horrible storm with snow up to the Irish girl's thighs, it was impossible to keep Holly alive let alone walk around without knowing where her group was. The black mare would have to be shot.
Lilly brushed her own auburn hair back and realized her braid had become disheveled. A silly thing to notice considering the situation and she put her head in her hands. For the first time in a really long time, she was alone. She'd been on her own as a kid once. Not for very long but, well, she didn't like thinking about that part of her life. Lilly placed a flat hand on Holly's neck, bending down to kiss the warm muscled flesh. Then she stood, turning to pull one of her revolvers out. She checked the chamber. Only four bullets left. Damn. She was low on ammo. She'd have to go outside to look for her crap.
Lilly clung to her white winter coat and pulled the collar higher. She got up, grabbing her repeater and lantern. She marched to the entrance, put the repeater on her back and lit the lantern. She almost lost her bulldogger hat when a mighty wind threatened to knock her over but she steadied herself. The Irish girl had pretty good balance. Lilly stomped through the snow, lifting her legs high. The hill wasn't far, thank goodness, but it'd still taken her a good half hour to get Holly after making a jimmy rigged sling and helping her along in the snow. The distance couldn't be more than fifty feet, she reckoned. Lilly held the light out in front of her, brushing a white gloved hand through the snow. Had it been that ridiculous to dress in white clothing since she was now lost from her adopted family? She missed them terribly, though she'd only been lost for what? Two days now? As she considered her conundrum, Lilly unfortunately couldn't find a god damn thing in the snow. Anything she had dropped in the fall was buried deep. Still, she kept searching for any lost items that had previously been in her possession.
Lilly heard a noise in the wind. An animal of some sort. A predator for sure. Lilly looked up and around, backing up to get a better view of the harsh and unforgiving environment. She could hardly see a damn thing in front of her, but then she saw a pair of bright blue eyes at the top of the hill. Was it a person? It couldn't be. Animals didn't have blue eyes. Not like these, anyway. Lilly grabbed her revolver and slowly aimed up at the unknown presence, the creature merely staring at her with curiosity. The eyes. They were bone chilling but beautiful. Stunning, even. Lilly had dark blue eyes and while she'd been told on more than several occasions how pretty they were, she was immediately jealous of the eyes at the top of the hill.
The creature or human, whatever it was, turned and disappeared. Lilly couldn't get a good look but she was certain she saw a flash of red fur before it left. Lilly sighed in relief, heading back to the cave before any other unwelcome visitors came strolling by to make a meal of her. As she came back in, slapping and shaking the accumulated snow on her clothes, Lilly glanced over at the saddle she had shoved in a corner and thanked the Lord above that her bow and arrows hadn't been lost in the storm or in the tumble down the hill that had caused her horse's fracture. Lilly looked over at Holly with a sadness in her sapphire blue eyes. The poor girl was suffering. Wiping a tear off her reddened cheeks, she took out her revolver again. Pulling back the hammer to aim, she sniffled to hold back tears of regret.
"I'm sorry, girl," she spoke, her voice choking with grief.
A shot echoed throughout the cave and Lilly lowered her gun. At least her mount wasn't suffering anymore, but the very brief shriek her horse made at the moment of the bullets impact would be burned into the girl's memory forever. Lilly went and leaned against the cave wall, holstering her gun. Lilly didn't want to think about Holly right now. She had to think of something else...anything else so she wouldn't succumb to her grief. Thinking about her current situation was not much help in keeping the sadness at bay. Desperate to think of something, members of the gang filled her mind and a soft smile crossed her face. Dutch, Hosea, Miss Grimshaw, Karen, Sean...Sean was missing but he'd disappeared at the beginning of the gang's escape from Blackwater. That whole thing went to bloody hell.
Lilly felt an overwhelming need to be joined with them, but her heart burned with an indescribable ache for Arthur Morgan. A 36-year-old grumpy, sarcastic, ruthless, and a most intimidating individual. Not that she was ever intimidated by him, of course, but Lilly wasn't meek or mild. She was wild, stubborn, fearless, and had a horrible temper, and despite Arthur's seemingly rough exterior, she was quite fond of him. So, to express her fondness for him and everyone else in her surrogate family, Lilly became the ultimate pranking terrorist of the camp, but Arthur was always victim. Tormenting him with her playful and humorous antics got such a rise out of Arthur and she thrived on his anxiety and anger. She wished she could play pranks on him now. Lilly didn't like being so utterly and hopelessly lost. No, she mustn't think like that. It wasn't hopeless until she allowed hopelessness to win out.
Thinking of this brought Lilly back to the death of her horse. She returned to the vicinity of her dead companion, burying her face into the Holly's neck. Lilly's big blue eyes filled with tears, the wetness dripping down on the dead horse's fur. As hardened as the girl was, Lilly always had a soft spot for animals. Perhaps it was from her rather short upbringing in Ireland and this thought made Lilly remember her father. Her real father. He had been a small farmer. But before that'd, he'd been a landlord so they were once wealthy. In fact, her father had earned a title of nobility long before she was born, but all she could clearly recall from her memory of such a time was the story of the great famine of '79. It had caused both her parents, her little sister, and her big brother to pack up and flee for America. Or was there something else? Her big brother told her it was a famine, yet there had been something else. Lilly knew it deep within her heart and soul, but for the life of her, Lilly's mind couldn't grasp the details of the seemingly locked memories of her pre-American childhood.
The sound of a low, menacing sounding growl filled her ears, the hairs on the back of her neck perking up. Lilly's head raised slowly to catch the image of two pairs of yellow eyes, threatening and hungry, locking their sights on the Irish girl from the depths of the cave. Well, this was alarming. Lilly rose to her feet, placing her gun in her hand with familiarity as the animals came into view. Wolves. The blue eyed girl glanced down at her horse. The smell of horse blood was faint to Lilly, but for a wolf, it would be more than enough to excite uncontrollable hunger. This was apparent as the wolves' hackles were raised and their white, frighteningly sharp fangs were bared, their mouths salivating from the scent of a fresh and bloody kill. The snarls and growls escalated to such ferocity, Lilly was sure she would perish in this cave from being eaten alive. Still, being overtaken by fear was not in her nature. If she was going down, she'd give them a hell of a fight first. However, Lilly had to comment on how fucked her predicament was.
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," was all that Lilly could whisper as the wolves, quick as lightning, charged towards her direction. Lilly backed up in a half run, but as any cliche would have to do with a damsel in distress, her heel collided into a rock. Lilly stumbled, and despite her phenomenal sense of balance, she went down. The force in which she landed caused Lilly to reactively pull the trigger on her gun. The bullet shot from the barrel with a loud bang and embedded itself into the rocky ceiling. Great. Fantastic. Feckin' inconceivably disheartening, to say the least. Still, Lilly shot back up from her vulnerable position to raise hell against the predatorial pair. But...what Lilly saw instead of impending doom was the tearing and ripping of horse flesh. Her mouth dropped from disbelief and horror. She wanted to protest, but she closed her mouth shut. As horrified as she was, Lilly was also not stupid. Yelling at wolves would surely piss them off and turn them on her, so there was only one thing she could do. Accept the fate of her dead horse and move on...but the luck. Oh, the sheer luck of it was not lost upon the Irish lass.
"...Well," her rosebud shaped mouth opened with a shaky release of air. "Don't mind me. I'm only one hell of a lucky girl."