A/N: Hello again! For those who are interested in the development of this story, I've been thinking of two ways I can go about this. I could either rewrite the story and leave Florence's gang as the main conflict or I can rewrite it as background in the game canon and write my playthrough. What do you all think?
Arthur doesn't remember waking up. He's just staring up at the ceiling of the cabin, the only sounds being the fire cackling and his own heartbeat echoing in his ears. It's almost peaceful when he doesn't think about what the morning holds for him when Florence gets up.
A branch breaks outside and the inside of the cabin is illuminated by an outside source enough for him to move from a prone position to being underneath the window with a gun. He peers over the edge, but he can't see past the glare created on the glass. The door rattles as the intruder tries to get in without so much as a knock, causing Arthur to stand point it at the shadowed figure. He'll shoot the bastard dumb enough to starting turning door knobs at random cabins. "Arthur," Charles voice calls out into the silence. "Damnit, open the door!"
Arthur puts the gun down and moves the lock out of the way. Charles bursts through the door, shivering and soaked, heading straight for the fire as questions spill from Arthur's mouth. "What happened? Is it safe to come back to camp?" It might be a stupid question, considering Charles is sitting right here in front of his dying fire, but it might be a good one nonetheless.
Charles holds up a hand, putting his palms to the weak heat and getting the bedroll wet. Arthur throws on more wood, blowing on it until the fire grows and burns his face from getting so close. He pulls a chair over to Charles, not content to sit in silence while the man warms himseld. His mind runs through every possibility of why he;s here. Is it safe? Was someone lost? Killed? Captured? It's eternity before Charles speaks again in his low voice.
The flames give enough light to the room that Arthur can get a good look at Charles. He's covered in blood, his face nearly a bright red with knife marks on one side of his cheek. "They attacked the camp, Arthur," he whispers, eyes wide with fear. "When Dutch would've give them the location, they gave us hell."
Arthur shifts in his seat. If he hadn't brought bher into the gang… she'd be dead, but his family would be safe. Who's his first priority? His family who's known him for years or the girl he may be in love with after a little under a month?
"No guilt, Arthur. You know what Dutch always says."
"He has a plan?"
Charles laughs, it ending in a groan as his arm wraps around his middle. "No. We feed those who need feeding. We save those who need saving-"
"We kill those who need killing," Arthur finishes. He runs a hand through his hair, leaning forward on his crossed legs. "It's strange being stuck between her and Dutch." It's like Dutch is testing his loyalty to him, but Dutch is the one who told him to bring her here. Dutch is the one who kept her location a secret.
So why does he feel stuck? Is it an inability to protect her? Or an inability to completely give himself to Dutch without questioning things.
"What's the problem?" Charles shudders slightly, holding out his hands to the fire. "She's part of the gang, Arthur. If we can accept Micah, Florence is no problem." Arthur's quiet chuckle fills the cabin. The men fall into companionable silence while the wood pops and eventually warms the cabin.
"Has Dutch moved the camp?"
Charles nods, shedding the blanket from his shoulders and stretching out his torso. "Yeah, Jaiver and I found a place in Lemoyne. Dutch didn't want me coming here. Said it was risky."
"Were you followed?"
"No. I don't think so. And if I was, they wouldn't be able to follow me." It's dark and Charles is a master hunter. Arthur trusts Charles to keep everyone safe, the man doesn't think for himself, he thinks for the group.
"How much longer are we going to give her to rest?"
Light flickers off the corners and shadows in the room as Arthur remains quiet. He's not sure how much longer he should give Florence or if he should give her time at all. Of course, this isn't about the resting but rather approaching the topic of whether or not he can be in a relationship with her and commit to it. Dawn approaches quickly, waking him from a doze he didn't know he'd fallen into.
"Arthur, we should move now," Charles says, shaking him further awake. Arthur nods, grunting as he stands and stretches out his body. The fire died down again, but with the sun rising, some of the warmth has become trapped. He's been dreading waking her up and facing the fact that he will have to choose. Hopefully the urgency of the gang bearing down on the gang and her will push it out a little further so he can continue to think.
Putting his hat back on his head, he crosses the room with three strides and knocks on the door, "Florence, we need to get moving." Silence answers him and he knocks again, this time louder. "Florence, come on." But there's no answer and a stone drops into his stomach, shuddering through his whole body.
Finding the door unobstructed, Arthur pushes it open, calling for her with a sigh. Why isn't she answering him?
The room is empty and the window open. The bed looks slept in and Florence's hat and holster sit on the table where he assumed she had set it from the night before. Had she left on her own or were they followed? Was Charles followed?
"She's not in here,"Arthur calls back out to Charles. "Damnit, were you followed?"
Charles comes into the room, looking around, inspecting the open window and the bed. "Muddy footprints," he says, pointing to something on the floor Arthur hadn't noticed before. "Either she opened the window or it was opened from the outside." There's no telling, but the important thing is she's gone.
He has to find her.
"Do you think you could track her?"
Charles nods and Arthur grabs both the hat and holster from the table. Chance is still in the shelter, falling asleep standing up. He pats the shire's side and the horse snorts awake, turning a big brown eye at him.
"Dutch needs to know what's going on," Arthur says, grunting as he saddles up Lemon and throws on Chance's as well. When he finds her, she'll probably be more excited to see her horse than him. It makes him chuckle in a sad way.
"You shouldn't go alone," Charles argues, looking over Taima's back at him. "It's not safe."
Arthur says nothing, mounting the horse as the sun peeks over the horizon. Charles isn't wrong, but he's afraid Dutch will think something happened. "I'll find you, okay? I have to find her and it would be easier for one person to do so."
"It's a death-wish, Arthur. You can't go off running like this!"
Arthur shakes his head. "It's not your call, now go tell Dutch what happened."
Charles glares at him and it's clear he'll have to deal with the consequences of 'running off' when he gets back to camp, but for every minute they waste is another minute she can be dead. Or tortured. Or whatever the fuck this cult will do to her.
He's shown the tracks that trail from her bedroom and it's an easy path to follow. Wagon tracks as well as several horses lead him far from Strawberry.
When he finds her, he has to figure out his feelings her, even if they aren't what she wants them to be. Why does he hesitate so? Why does he kiss her and then back away? She hasn't been wrong in her anger and justified in wanting him to choose what he wants to do. But he doesn't know. She's not Mary, that much is clear. She has taken to this lifestyle in a way that Mary never did and she has no father, that he's aware of, that will pull her from him.
But still his heart remains in the brambles, protected by the wall he erected so long ago. The trail soon dies off as the sun rises higher in the sky and chases away the morning fog. To his left, a large green and purple field can be seen with a herd of horses watching him carefully. He spurns Lemon and Chance on, hoping he'll come up on the camp.
But what he finds is worse.
The gang has managed to somehow procure a large farmhouse with several buildings and men standing outside. There is no way he can take these men on his own. "Arthur," a voice whispers and he looks around to see Charles pulling his appaloosa out of the trees.
"Damnit Charles, didn't I tell you to go back to camp?"
"You have a death hanging on your head, Arthur and I'm not about to let you die alone." He stops next to the man, both of them far enough not to cause any alarm from the gang. "How are we going to get in? Place is crawling with them."
"Yeah, I know." Arthur crosses his arms and leans forward on the saddle. "I don't know yet. Silently I think. She could be in any one of those buildings, but more likely the main house or the barn."
Charles nods. He pulls his bow from the saddle and hitches Taima to a tree off to the side. Arthur does the same with Lemon and Chance and they sneak along the side of the treeline until they are forced out into the open.
There is a fence that circles the entirety of the farmhouse with an arch that marks the opening. Two men stand guard, guns relaxed and talking to each other as they lean against the posts. More men prowl inside the camp. There seems to be no patrolling party which is both helpful and terrible at the same time. "How do we want to proceed?"
Arthur stops and thinks for a moment. How will this go the best way? If they hear gunshots out in the main area, they might kill her off immediately. Or they might come out and investigate, allowing both him and Charles time to pick them off one by one. It's hard to tell how truly big this gang actually is. Or if this is even their main camp.
Arthur points to the men in the front and they raise their bows at the same time, a twang echoing off the trunks. They drop dead, shafts sticking out their head. It raises a quiet alarm amongst the men in the camp as they become tense and hold their guns in a fighting stance. "Who's there?" It's like they don't want to alarm whoever is inside.
Arthur counts five men outside. Enough to make it difficult in killing them all in a successful manner. He's not as trained or well-equipped with the bow to-
Charles shoots off the arrows one by one, the men dropping silently to the ground. "Damn, Charles," Arthur whistles lowly. They stay low to the ground, approaching the farmhouse. No one comes out of either building and it seems their killing has gone unnoticed for now.
"Told you, you need me."