A/N: A lot of reconciliation and character development on this chapter. It occurred to me that I never fully had Arthur come to terms with the losses he had to face in America. Now that he's not running around saving people every which way and dying in the process, he has time to reflect. Also, he's a charmer and there's going to be a close call here. You thirsty assholes.
Chapter 5
The damage to the ship proved to be easy enough to repair, and they were back underway inside of eighteen hours. It was time Adam spent recovering, suffering from some light bruising and severe Aura depletion. Apparently, even though he could reflect stupid amounts of damage back at his opponents, it still required Aura to manipulate the energy. Since he sent back two blasts from a Sea Feilong, the angsty teenager was down for the count until they reached Mistral. Since he shared a cabin with Tukson, all parties involved though it would better to put Cain and Adam in the same room, and let Tukson and Arthur room together.
It gave Arthur plenty of time to mingle with the rest of the White Fang, like Tukson and Cain. He still spoke often with Sienna, though she was too busy for a serious heart to heart chat. In many ways, her leadership reminded him of Dutch, with how involved she was in the lives and goals of her followers. She didn't just boss people around and demand why things were not progressing. Sienna took charge and encouraged the White Fang, and worked with them to accomplish the tasks they had together, instead of berating them if an issue came up. That didn't mean she was immune to frustration, but she made it clear that she was upset with the results, not the people.
Thus, Tukson and Arthur found themselves spending the repair time chatting and trading stories. Arthur had told a few stories from his time with the Van der Linde gang, and Tukson had revealed that he was an aspiring writer.
"I've never seen someone get hurt by a book." Tukson said as they lounged in the cabin. "Sure, you can throw it at somebody or beat them with it, but a book in itself doesn't have a lot of malice in it. If it says something you don't like, you can simply close it and put it back. And they tell so many wonderful stories."
"You sure are in the wrong business if you like books so much." Arthur pointed out. "Seems like anything the White Fang publishes might not be accepted for a few years." Tukson shrugged at that.
"I'm close to getting out of the whole freedom fighter thing anyway. Sienna's a great leader, really, but she wants to fight more and take a harder edge with the Kingdoms. I didn't sign on to terrorize people." The Faunus had leaned back, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. "I have some family in Vale. I figured I could move there and open a bookstore or something. Nothing wrong with selling books."
Arthur nodded, but said nothing. Sienna had not been subtle with her designs; when she returned to Menagerie, she would be arguing to replace Ghira Belladonna as leader of the White Fang. It was part of why she had tried so hard to bring the construction supplies to Kuo Kuana. The village was growing, and needed more permanent leadership. Not only that, but Ghira had a daughter about to become a teenager. Not only did he have the responsibilities of a parent, but being the leader of the White Fang made his whole family a target for some of their more radical opponents.
"Do what you have to do. No one should be forced to fight when they don't want to. Self defense excluded, of course." He reasoned. "From what I know of Sienna, and I realize that it's not a lot, she seems understanding enough to let you live your life." Tukson grinned and pointing at Arthur, his knowing grin growing as the gunslinger's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Oh, I think you know her better than you think, Mr. Morgan. I'm not exaggerating when I say that you are her first human friend in years. Sienna grew up in Mistral, and while the racism was not as bad in most areas, but the places where people didn't like Faunus were brutal. In Atlas and Vale, they'd call us names or refuse service. In Mistral, they treated Faunus like we didn't even exist. No looks, no nods, no service; absolutely no interaction at all. We were considered unmentionable as citizens. Our demonstrations and rallies have done a lot to change that, but those were the years that Sienna grew up in. It's lingered with her, that's for sure. And yet, Arthur Morgan can befriend her in the process of a day." Arthur waved off his praise with a huff. She had already explained herself. He was honest, and she enjoyed that. Sure, she had a rough upbringing when it came to humanity, but Arthur hadn't been any different from a rogue Huntsman needing help. There was nothing special in what he had done for her, and no reason to anything different in how she treated him. She was just being friendly, is all. When he said so, Tukson only laughed again.
"Well, at least you're both clueless. Still, I can't understate how much you're doing for the White Fang." At Arthur's confused look, Tukson held up a hand. "Hear me out. Before she met you, Sienna was just as likely to speak to a human as she would strangle one. Too much mistrust and too many bad experiences over time. I joined the White Fang around the same time she did, and she was a lot angrier back then. But this past week or so, she's been more moderate than I've ever seen. She actually speaks to the humans on the crew, and she's made small talk with the captain. Given that she's probably about to take over the White Fang, you've done both of our races a world of good." Tukson sighed, scratching his head as he crossed his feet. "I made the decision to leave when she took power as soon as I knew she was gunning for it, but... if you had been around a month ago, I might have stayed."
"You can't put that much faith in me spending time with her over a week." Arthur defiantly challenged. "Yeah, she may be acting different, but that's still Sienna behaving that way. I'm not forcing her into being a different person." Seriously, how bad was she? The way Tukson said it, Sienna had possessed half a mind of wiping out humanity before he came along. Given what he knew of the woman and how smart she was, surely that was an exaggeration.
"That's just it though. The Lady Khan isn't some animal; she's always been planning and watching. But the doubts she's had about her own outlook had to have been there, or you never would have been as successful as you are. She doesn't want to hurt people and attack convoys to get her way; she just feels that there's no other choice. Ghira's protests have had a positive effect, but it's not enough for her. She wants equal treatment for the Faunus as soon as possible, and she thinks that everyone that gets spit on and trampled between then and now should blame her for it." Ah. Kinda reminded Arthur of Captain Monroe; the bleeding heart Army captain that had tried to step in between the Wapiti Nation and a failed Civil War colonel on a glory binge. Just like how Tukson explained it, Monroe had taken it personally every time the Wapiti and the Army had clashed.
"She can't hold herself responsible like that. It ain't healthy." Arthur said quietly. "I can tell she cares about her people, even Adam. That boy has more reason to hate humans than she does, but he was willing to wait on us both instead of shipping out."
"Everyone in the White Fang respects the Khan. It just seems like you remind her that there is more to Sienna Khan than being the hero of the White Fang. She sometimes forgets that she's a person, not some messiah doomed to either absolute success or total failure. That's a lot of weight for a person to bear alone."
Huh. It made sense to an extent, but then again Arthur didn't know her quite like Tukson did. From the way the man described it, Sienna didn't have a good reason to trust him like she had. What was it she had said? That his honesty had been refreshing? He was no stranger to the evils and selfishness of mankind, but how many times did you need people to deceive you before you gave up on them entirely? Maybe the fact that there were truly differences between Faunus and humans made it easier, but Arthur couldn't imagine how badly it had to have been.
I've been cussed and bruised as much as the rest of them, but... could I handle that? Being ignored and treated like you don't even exist? It wasn't a question he was going to see an answer to any time soon. Before he could tread down that morbid path, Arthur pulled his journal from his bag. Thumbing it open, he was somewhat surprised to see that despite his downtime, he hadn't written the first page since he'd come to Remnant. The last page written had been the words of a dying man, one who reflected upon a life of mistakes and poor choices. Now, he was in a whole new land, and had quite a bit of opportunity in front of him.
As he pulled his pen and began to write, two more things occurred to him. Number one, he couldn't think of anywhere to start. Number two... should he really continued the journal here? Or would it be better to start a new one, to go along with the new chapter in his life? Everything he had written in the journal so far had been since that cold, frosty night after the Blackwater heist went bad. Every loss, every fallen friend, and every frustrated thought had been poured into his journal. There were good things too; illustrations of amazing and unique sights in the American frontier, the many wonderful people he had met. But it was over now. As much as he hated to admit it, he didn't have a clear picture on how to get back to the U.S. Summer had said something about using the Relic, but what was the likelihood of him getting to use the very thing he had been asked to deliver?
"So, you like books a lot, huh?" Arthur began, changing the subject before they strayed into dangerous territory. "You want a good novel idea?" Tukson looked like he was about to call Arthur out on starting a new topic, but his curiosity won out.
"Sure. What do you have in mind?" Arthur huffed and thumbed through his journal absently, not really reading it so much as remembering all the things he had recorded in it. It felt like half his life, when really it had only been one, maybe two years at the most. The world had been against them, though, save for a few kind strangers. If Tukson wanted to get out of the White Fang successfully, he was going to need some money.
"How 'bout a western?" Arthur asked hopefully. He tried not to be insulted when Tukson barked out a harsh laugh, covering his mouth with his hand and shaking his head.
"Are you kidding? Arthur, I know I sound wise and world traveled, but I don't know enough about western stories to write more than some waiting room, hundred page hero spiel. Besides, those stories don't have enough substance to them." The gunslinger knew where he was coming from. Back in the States, he'd read the 'cowboy stories' while sitting in a waiting room or waiting for a ferry. They had carried elements of truth, but they'd been exaggerated and cut off too early.
"Well, the problem with that is they end too early. They show the cowboy riding off into the sunset like he gets to live a happy life. They don't say that it's the last time he ever felt happy." Arthur shook his head. "No, I'm talking a real outlaw story. One with betrayal, train robberies, even a shipwreck on a distant island. You interested?" Tukson leaned forward, rubbing his hands together with a gleam in his eye. Now, Arthur could see that hunger for the story. The man had at least told the truth there.
"I'll admit, you have my attention. My only question is why you haven't written one, if you have such a resource?" This time, it was Arthur's turn to laugh.
"Tukson, I've only known you for a spell, but you have to know by now that wordplay ain't really my specialty, especially once you put them on paper. I've wrestled hogs that were less frustrating than writing for a book. But I did jot down a few things, draw a few more." Arthur hesitated, wondering if he was overstepping his bounds a little here. "My whole life, I was running from something. The law, outlaws, hell even wild animals sometimes. But when the time came to get out, I didn't take the opportunity I'd been given. Now Sienna is gonna do her damnedest to do right by the White Fang, and I trust her. But if you want to get out and stay out, then this might be what you need." With that, he held out the journal for the Faunus to take. He did so, and when he opened the first page, the Blackwater ledger greeted him. Numbers, details of robberies, heists, and all the other stupid things they had gotten up to before the gang fracture danced before Tukson's eyes, and Arthur couldn't help but grin as he turned the page with more fervor. The next page was Arthur grieving Davey and Jenny, stuck in the abandoned, frozen town of Colter waiting for the snow to thaw.
Saving John from a pack of wolves, hunting with Charles when food got scarce, ambushing the O'Driscolls; every day it had seemed like they were in for one adventure or another. Sure, there had been down time, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to write down and draw the things he had seen. But there was enough material in that journal to give Tukson a real start.
"Arthur, this is..." Tukson struggled for words. "I don't know what to say. Is this, did all of this really...happen?" The gunslinger smirked, and took that as his cue to leave. He stood up, cracking his back and groaning contentedly as Tukson greedily drank in the story written on the pages.
"I leave that to you to figure out, my friend. I'm gonna go see what our illustrious leader is up to. You look like you've got some reading to do." He patted Tukson on the shoulder, leaving the bewildered man to soak in the adventures of an outlaw named Arthur Morgan.
The hall outside of the crew cabins was cramped, and two people could barely walk down them side by side. Thankfully, everyone else was bustling around the ship already, and with Adam on bed rest, the chances of Arthur's day being ruined were lower than usual. A trek topside to the bridge did not yield Sienna, however, and neither did her personal quarters. The sailors were all attending to their duties, and Arthur wasn't going to interrupt them for the sake of curiosity. Land was a day away, and they were stuck between double checking the repairs and preparing for docking.
After about half an hour of wandering the ship and hoping to run into her, Arthur gave up and decided to head down to the hold. Famine was likely getting lonely, and he probably could do with a good brushing anyway. As Arthur walked down the ladder and turned the corner to where Famine was boarded, he was greeted by an unexpected sight.
Sienna was grooming Famine already, running the brush over his sleek black coat and petting him gently. Now, Famine was the farthest thing from a tortured horse, and Arthur held to a personal motto of 'he who mistreats his horse mistreats himself'. But if a horse could look smug, the black Arabian being groomed by the future leader of the White Fang just oozed it. Arthur cleared his throat to announce himself, and Sienna turned to look at him with a grin. She didn't quit brushing though.
Control yourself, man. You are NOT jealous of a horse.
"Hello Arthur. I was wondering when you would come down here." She greeted, scratching Famine behind and ear as she moved toward his side. "The captain says we'll be docked by noon tomorrow if the weather holds, and I ran out of things to do." As she said that, Arthur became aware of another aspect of horse care. A stale stink of manure struck his nose, and he grimaced. Just how bad did that look, Sienna coming down to visit the horse and he hadn't mucked the stall? He grabbed a shovel and a bucket from next to the bulkhead and stepped behind Famine, trusting the horse and Sienna to not get him kicked.
"You know, there are some people who are real touchy about their horses." He said imperiously, giving Sienna a wink over Famine's back to know he was kidding. "A woman coming down to care for a man's horse might have to contend with some nasty rumors." Sienna 'hmm'ed in response and finished brushing Famine's flank, giving the horse a few more pats before she sat the brush down next to its saddle on the deck. She watched Arthur gather up the horse's leavings as best he could, leaning up against the bulkhead while the gunslinger worked.
"I can assure you, I'm above any rumors that might come around, especially those that are untrue." Ouch. Arthur winced good-naturedly and finished his task, grabbing the bucket and heading toward the ladder to dump it out over the edge. The tiger Faunus stroked Famine's cheek a few more times in farewell, the fell in a tolerable distance behind him. One of the downsides to being a Faunus was the sensitive nose, and Arthur was carrying around a bucket of shit.
"Well, if we're making as good of progress as everyone says, it looks like tonight's the night I finish off my whiskey." Arthur shrugged, reminding himself to dig out the bottles from his saddlebags. "Figure by the time we reach land, there will be too much to focus on to be liquored up." He reached the main deck and turned immediately, dumping out the excrement into the ocean below. He shook the bucket for good measure, then set it down next to him and dusted his hands off. With the source of the odor gone, Sienna was free to stand next to him.
"I doubt Tukson will appreciate having a drunk cowboy for a roommate." She commented. Arthur chuckled at the image of Tukson trying to read while he was singing off key. That would be quite unfortunate.
"I've given him something to do, and I ain't gonna bother him with it. I figured since the sailors loaned me some of their stuff, I might share some of mine." He'd already cleaned his guns and organized his gear to quickly disembark when they reached Mistral. About the only thing he had left to do was drink, and he'd be damned it he did so alone.
"Well, if you're planning on sharing a drink, why not do it with me?" Sienna offered innocently, staring out at the sea. Arthur looked at her with a start, then looked away before she could catch his surprise. She was asking him to come to quarters? A moment later, he felt like smacking himself. Who the hell was he, Lenny? Jumping at the first conclusion like a youngster around the first girl he ever fancied. There was nothing wrong with a drink between friends, and Sienna had some seriously heavy responsibilities ahead of her. If she wanted to blow off some steam and have a drink, who was he to say no?
"That sounds like a fine idea." He smiled, and was relieved when she returned it with a grin of her own. "You nervous about what's coming? I don't know a lot about y'all and your politics, but what I've heard makes me think that you are about to become a very important woman." He expected her to grin and joke about it, or maybe take it stoically like he saw her do countless times with the rest of the White Fang. Instead, she sighed.
"It's a step in the right an direction, and it's what we need. But I can already tell it won't be pleasant." She leaned against the railing, this time putting all her weight on it. It was a beautiful day, and the sea breeze was tame and comfortable. Yet here was Sienna Khan, slumped over a railing and looking miserable.
"Leading people ain't never pleasant. It's why I never wanted the job." Arthur said, turning to rest one arm on the edge and letting the other fall to his side. "Not just anybody can lead, Miss Khan. That's part of makes you so special." Sienna scoffed.
"Please. If he weren't so prone to letting his anger guide him, Adam could lead the White Fang. You just have to get everyone in a room, tell them what to do and the consequences of not doing. I..." She faltered. "I don't want to take the White Fang from Ghira, but he's content with what he has. The Faunus are far better now than they were after the war, and he thinks that is enough. I disagree. But it means I must to take his place, and I can't help but feel like I'm betraying him."
"Have you talked to him about this?" Arthur asked. When Sienna looked down at the water instead of back at him, the gunslinger groaned and rubbed his nose. "Of course you haven't."
"Until I'm declared leader, I'd be challenging him in open rebellion." She insisted. "If the decision isn't made quickly, the White Fang could fracture, pitting my supporters against his. Even if we both want peace within the ranks, members from each side would use the schism as an excuse to act irrationally. I have to bring it up when I'm ready to push for it."
"I can see why you disagreed with protesting." Arthur muttered, knowing full well her ears picked it up from how they twitched. "He sounds like he's used to gradually making progress. Sudden, violent change ain't gonna be a good selling point with him. And besides, your supporters are already pulling for you whether you want them to or not. It seems like the only time they don't talk about you taking over is when you're in the room." Sienna's shoulders hunched even further, and he heard the metal groan as she gripped the rail. Uh huh. Duly noted, she could bend metal with her strength. If things kept up like they seemed, she'd either beat him with the bars on the edge of the ship or throw herself off of the boat entirely to avoid the hassle.
"I respect Belladonna, but I know he isn't doing what we need. If he would just listen, I wouldn't have to force him out. Every time I've brought up how we need more action, he's been so quick to say no that I feel as if he's given up." She threw her hands into the air and stepped back, a rare moment of unrestrained frustration escaping her. Arthur discreetly looked around to see if there were any White Fang watching, but thankfully they had all gone down below decks. Good, they didn't need to see their leader picking herself apart.
"Tell you what." Arthur said as he patted her on the shoulder. "I'll go grab some glasses and some drinks, and I'll meet you in your cabin. That way, we can talk all about it without you making a scene. Sound good?" She didn't respond verbally, but just nodded and sighed. Drawing herself up once more, the Khan resumed her usual demeanor and gave him a regal nod. With that, she turned and walked back to the hatch that led down to the crew quarters. Arthur watched her until the hatch closed behind her, then turned and looked out toward the sea.
"You fool, Arthur Morgan. What the hell have you gotten into?" Still, as promised he went down to the hold and retrieved his alcohol like any stranded cowboy would, and thirty minutes later presented himself in front of Sienna's cabin. He would have knocked, but she opened the door for him before he had the chance. Trying to keep the surprise off of his face, Arthur held up two bottles of Kentucky whiskey and a decanter of fine brandy.
"Your drinks, my lady Khan." He said with a bow. Sienna smirked at his attempt at humor, then looked down the hall both ways. Seeing that there was no one witnessing Arthur walk into the Khan's cabin with alcohol and a smile, she quickly grabbed him by the vest and hauled him inside. Arthur tottered in with a surprised grunt, struggling not to drop his offerings, trip, or crush Sienna against the wall all at once. It was a task for a sober man, which he thankfully still was for the moment.
"Sorry about that." Sienna apologized quietly. "With everything else that's going on, the last thing I need is gossip reaching the wrong people." Arthur accepting her explanation with as much grace as he could muster, though he didn't really appreciate being a dirty little secret. Still, it wasn't like they were stripping clothes off and getting biblical with each other, so he couldn't fault her for wanting to avoid unscrupulous lies.
"Don't worry so much about it. From everything I can tell, your whole team is dedicated to you. That, and besides our angry bull they like me just fine too." Arthur coughed and took in the cabin.
It wasn't much to talk about really. A small chair and desk sat next to the door, which took the bottles of whiskey with room to spare. Six feet away from the door, a modest cot sat with Sienna's bag underneath it. To the right of the cot was a porthole that looked out at the sea. Across from it, a small head provided basic sanitation needs, including a shower. The only thing that set Sienna's cabin aside from the rest was the fact that there was only one bed. Arthur turned the metal chair around to face the cot and sat down heavily, gesturing toward it with his free hand. Sienna stepped past him, taking a glass from him as she passed. Arthur dug into his satchel for the other one, and opened the first whiskey bottle with a pull of his teeth. Instead of spitting it out onto the floor like a vagabond, he poured them both a few fingers and set the stopper down on the table next to bottle. He was in the presence of a lady, after all.
"Thank you for this, Arthur." Sienna said gratefully. She sipped the whiskey, and to his fading surprise had little reaction besides a slight grimace. The more he spoke with her, the more Arthur came to realize that there was very little that was normal about Sienna Khan. Besides the things perched on top of her head, of course.
"It's what needs to be done. You don't owe me nothing." Arthur knocked his glass back in one go, grinning through it as the whiskey blazed a fire down his throat. "Now, whatever you want to talk about, let it fly. We'll get it taken care of until the troubles run out or the booze does." He deftly topped himself off, then sat back patiently.
"I think I'm aware of my troubles." She said wryly, taking another sip and nearly emptying the glass. Somehow, she made drinking whiskey from a cheap trail glass look regal. Maybe it was the outfit. "What I would like to know is what you've done to Tukson. I checked on him on the way here, and it took me knocking three times to get him to the door. I asked him if he was okay, and he just gave me this look." Sienna tried to put forth a look of bewilderment, but it didn't have the same effect that Tukson's had.
"If I had to guess, he's found himself a good book to read." Arthur replied ambiguously. Sienna's ears flattened as she gave him a look, and he finally relented. "You never told anybody about where I came from?"
"Who would believe me? I heard it from the man himself, and it took everything I know about humans to not call you a liar." She pointed to her cat ears in emphasis. "There are some things you can fake, Arthur, but if you have figured out how to slow your heartbeat when telling a lie every time you tell it, then you are a better infiltrator than I will ever be." Arthur looked at her for a moment, reminding himself not for the first time that her Faunus heritage was more than just for show. He never thought about her using it to check him for deceit, though.
"Well, that explains some things, I guess. I gave him my journal, the one I wrote in for the past few years. At first he didn't believe me, but I'd bet my horse you were the first person he's spoken to since I left the cabin." Sienna's eyes widened, and Arthur took another swig.
"Why would you do that?" Arthur shrugged, looked at her again, then took another pull.
"I'm sure he's told you already, but Tukson Stark is not long for the White Fang. From what he tells me, you are going to make things more violent, and he's already tired of fighting." Arthur held up a hand when she rose from the cot, fury dancing in her eyes. "I told him why you were doing what you're doing, don't worry. It ain't so much what you're doing as it is that he's tired. He's wore out from having to fight for what he wants, and the way things are now, he thinks he can have the life he wants." Sienna glared at him for a few moments, then slowly sank back onto the cot. She sighed heavily, finishing her glass without a sound and waving for another. Instead of leaning forward and pouring it for her, Arthur just tossed her the bottle entirely. She caught it deftly, sloshing another four fingers worth from the half empty bottle into her glass. Once that was done, she upended the glass with a groan, then filled it up again.
"I'm not trying to hurt people, Arthur." She gasped, the fire burning down to her belly and bringing some heat into her cheeks. "If they would just treat us like we are people, not animals, then I wouldn't have to do anything. But I will not tolerate anyone treating my people like they are lesser beings. Like we somehow deserve less just for being different!"
"I know. I know. But you know better than I do that it goes against human nature to be fair. I ain't sayin' it's impossible, but being decent like that actually takes effort. At the end of the day, it's them being selfish and lazy that causes you so much grief." He'd distracted her from asking about him, answering the way he did. Arthur hadn't meant to broach such a sore topic, but the reason he was there was to get Sienna to blow off all the steam she had packed up. The woman was a walking time bomb of anxiety and battle chains.
"I...I don't fault him for leaving, but Tukson has been with the White Fang for some time. Losing him feels like he's turning his back on us. I know he isn't, but it feels that way." And suddenly, Arthur wasn't sitting with Sienna Khan on a ship bound for Mistral. Instead, he was looking at Dutch Van der Linde, cussing up a storm about John Marston after the latter disappeared for the better part of a year. The argument was very similar, only Sienna wasn't hostile about it towards Tukson. Not yet, anyway. The sudden lucid moment left as soon as it came, and Arthur took another pull of his whiskey.
"The difference between you and Tukson is what you want. When he signed up, things were a lot worse for you folks, right?" Sienna nodded, drinking some more. "Maybe he's reached the point that he was fighting for? You won't stop until you get absolute equality, but Tukson doesn't need that. All he needs is the right to open up a bookstore somewhere and retire from this life of frustration and freedom fighting. I think he deserves a break, at least." If he had been able to catch Dutch before Micah had poisoned his mind, maybe they could have had this chat about John. But I was just as ill about John leaving as Dutch was. Arthur reminded himself. He didn't have the wisdom back then that he had now.
"I won't hold it against him, and I won't tolerate anyone else who does." Sienna said resolutely. Her amber eyes settled on him with interest once more. "But back to the matter at hand, what was it he read that shut him in so effectively? Do not tell me that the life of Arthur Morgan was that impressive?" Arthur barked a harsh laugh at that, and Sienna thankfully chuckled as well.
"Impressive? Hell no. It'd be more accurate to say that I drifted from one cluster fuck to another on a near constant basis. Pardon my French." He added at the last minute, not really recognizing that Sienna had no idea where France was. "Since he didn't know that I'm not really from around here, he thinks it's just a long story I wrote down in my spare time. I reckon by the time he reaches the end, he'll fill in the blanks. But for now, that's probably going to be the novel that gets him his bookstore." All it took was sacrificing the one thing that Arthur had used to hold himself together, and keep up with all the strange and horrid things that had happened to him. He wasn't going to forget any of it any time soon, but recording it in a journal gave him an illusion of control over the events. It let him look back on how he thought then, and make better choices moving forward.
"That's quite generous of you. Of course, I'm beginning to doubt that you have ever been selfish, as often as you help people you've never met." Sienna finished her drink and poured another, and this time Arthur noticed she was swaying slightly. Either the ship was hitting some waves, or the indomitable tigress was finally feeling the liquor. Arthur knew his face was flushed, and a pleasant buzz filled his head as he unstopped the second bottle of whiskey.
"You're just saying that because I never stole from you. Trust me, there's a lot of people out there that think I'm a selfish ass." Arthur chuckled to himself as he said it. "They ain't far off, neither."
"Very well, if you say so." Her tone implied that she didn't believe it. "Still, I am curious about what happened to bring you to us. Don't get me wrong, I'm so very glad you did, but when we met you said that you were nearly killed by an infection? How did all of that happen?" Oh boy. That whole thing. Well, if she wanted to know, he'd have to go all the way back to when the gang camped out at Horseshoe Overlook.
"Yeah, I'm not gonna need this any more." Arthur swallowed the last of the drink in his glass, then grabbed his bottle by the neck. Bringing it to his lips, Arthur greedily took two pulls before he released it with a gasp.
"Alright, so here's the beginning of it. About a year and a half ago, one of ours, a man named Leopold Strauss goes into town like he always does and goes lookin' for folks down on their luck. He catches 'em at their weakest and offers them a loan at ungodly rates, then sends me to collect when they don't pay. One of these poor souls was a man named Thomas Downes." And so, one of Arthur's greatest shames played out. How he went to Downes' home in the evening. How he berated and threatened a sick, gentle man who had made a mistake. How he beat the man nearly to death in front of his family, all the while claiming that Downes had it coming for taking on a debt he couldn't handle. And from there, the floodgates opened. He told her about the train robberies, about saving Sean from Blackwater only to watching him get shot in Rhodes. Arthur spoke of Kieran, the boy the O'Driscolls had found not long before Arthur had captured him. He told Sienna all about how he berated and chewed the boy, despite his every assurance and effort that he was a part of the Van der Linde gang. He told her how Kieran had gone missing one day, and no one had care. How he had come riding in to camp at Shady Belle, his corpse holding his own head in its lap just before the O'Driscolls attacked.
He told her about Rains Fall and Eagle Flies and their doomed dispute with the government. He told her how Dutch had fueled the young brave's rage, and focused it toward a selfish goal. He swore as he recounted the ride back to the reservation, the dying boy bleeding all over his back. Hosea, Lenny, John; he'd let them all down.
And lastly, he told her about the Downes family, and how Mrs. Downes was whoring herself out to villains and lowlifes while her son was abused in the Annesburg coal mine. Sienna remained calm and attentive as Arthur very nearly teared up, explaining how he had thrown as much money at them as they would take in a futile attempt to make their lives better again.
"So you see, girl. I'm not a good man like people tell me." Arthur finished his bottle, which had dwindled steadily during his hour long tale. "Too many others are dead where I'm not, and if I could take their place I'd do it in a heartbeat. I've done terrible things, and by some bitter irony I'm still around to see them get worse." When Arthur went silent, the cabin remained so for a horribly long time. Sienna said nothing, her eyes on the floor as he struggled to rein in his emotions. Working with the White Fang and staying focused had done wonders to help him forget what he had left behind, but now as he sat there, recounting his exploits to a friend that thought far higher of him than he deserved, every failure and lie and murder came crashing back down on him. It was almost enough to drown him, had he not weathered it time and again. But he had a purpose now; Summer had seen to that. And he would repay her kindness if it killed him.
"I disagree." Sienna said quietly. Arthur glanced up at her in equal parts disbelief and curiosity. "You did what you could for the people you care about, in an unkind and punishing world. You didn't face the same level of discrimination like I did, but you had to fight to protect your family nearly every day. That takes a rare kind of strength, Arthur. And you didn't take the money out of greed. You were so far out of society's favor, your only hope for a normal life was to make something of yourselves. I'm envious, actually." Arthur actually did blanch at that.
"The hell are you talking about?" He slurred, half drunk on alcohol and cynicism.
"The whole time you were fighting, you never had to ask yourself if you were doing the right thing. You followed Dutch's lead, and Hosea's, and your own moral code when those two were of no help. In the end, you knew what you were going to do long before you ever did anything. There was no time for doubt." Sienna finished her bottle as well, letting it fall to floor with a clink and roll with the motion of the ship. "I'm sure there are a few things Dutch Van der Linde could tell me about leading a lost cause."
"You ain't leading a lost cause. There's more than just a handful of people that believe in you. You've got real progress to go off of, not just a constant battle to stay alive. And as for Dutch," Arthur's eyes darkened, and he set his hat down on the table next to him. "I'd say he'd be just as lost as you are. The only difference being, you aren't accusing the people you care about of betraying you."
Sienna didn't seem to accept his words, but she didn't outright deny them either. It just felt like he was telling her a truth that he saw, when she couldn't find any trace of it. Just like his own origins, his faith in her was true to him, but she just couldn't see it. Then again, he was a cowboy from another continent who trusted strangers a little too well in the first place.
"There's just one more thing I'm curious about." She said slowly, as much because she knew it was a heavy question as to her inebriation. "When I poked around in your bags the day we left Vacuo, I saw a ring. Whatever happened to Mrs. Morgan?" Arthur stiffened at that, and the most pain he'd ever shown in the time he'd told his tale crossed his face. He sighed, the tension not quite leaving his shoulders, and she could tell that despite his effort to take her mind off of the coming storm, he was fighting whether or not to tell her. Luckily, it looked like she had won out, because he grabbed the brandy and stood up. He swayed when he did so, his already hindered balance not handling the roll of the ship too well, and Sienna had to grab his hand to guide him over to the cot. He fell down heavily, slumping against her for a moment before he found his strength again.
"I'm gonna need the brandy for this one." He led with, and uncorked the decanter. He swigged it slowly, but still managed to drink a third of it before he stopped. When he finished, he handed the container to Sienna, as much an offering as it was to keep him from finishing the whole thing himself.
"In my youth, I got mixed up with a woman named Mary Gillis." Arthur started slowly, digging into his satchel. When his hand came out, the letter and the ring came with it. It was a small, insignificant thing, but he cradled it like it outweighed the world. Such a small thing, and it carried so much sadness with him. And yet, if he threw it away, he would throw away all the things that made him happy too.
"We were in love, real and true." The emotion in his voice was broken, sad and regretful. "I loved her, and I know she loved me just as bad. But this lifestyle drove us apart. Her father owned a horse farm, the kind that sells high priced animals to queens and nobles and rich oil magnates. He looked down on me whenever he could, provided he wasn't chasing skirts or drinking a bar dry somewhere. Total hypocrite." Arthur waved the thought away like it was a cobweb in front of his face. "Anyway, we separated, and she went off to get married. Told me she'd never see me again. And for a while, she told the truth. I got married, had a son and a wife. Lost them both to bandits while me and Dutch were out doing our thing. Came to find out years later, Mary Gillis became Mary Linton, and then she became a widow."
Sienna immediately saw how this was going to go and took a generous pull from the brandy, then handed it back to Arthur. He nodded in thanks, then took one for himself too and handed it back.
"Her brother went missing when we were in Valentine, and she wrote me and asked me to find him. He joined some silly turtle cult or something called the Chelosians. I brought to boy back without too much trouble, and hear from her again until we were in Saint Denis. I watched her Pa try to sell a priceless brooch that had belonged to her mother, and Mary decided we should see a show and walk around the city for a spell. Like normal people. It was enough to fool me into thinking that maybe we had a chance." Arthur went silent and stared down at the ring in his hand. He slowly set it down on his knee, watching it as if it would jump up and scurry off if he left it unsupervised. With both hands free, he gently unfolded the letter from Mary, his eyes dancing over it again.
Sienna watched as he did so, resisting the admittedly strong urge to read the words on the page. They were not meant for her, she reminded herself, and the sorrow on his face told her everything she needed to know.
"I was a fool to love her, and an even bigger fool to leave her like I did. Eventually, a woman in her position has to marry somebody. Another man came along, and she sent me my ring back. She said that she hoped I could use it to bring joy to someone else, because every time she saw it she felt nothing but pain. Now, I guess I know how she felt." He heaved a heavy sigh, then grabbed the ring and placed it and the letter back in the envelope they had come in. With his misery safely packaged, Arthur stuck it carefully back into his satchel.
"I imagine someone in her position has certain expectations." Sienna's voice did not hold the sincerity of her words. "But I also know that she saw you for what you fail to see. You are a good, kind man Arthur. You cannot allow the evils of the world to let you forget that. There are people alive and happy right now because of you. Had you not helped us in Vacuo, I fear that I would have been forced to kill for these supplies." Arthur glanced over at her in surprise, and this time it was her turn to pull on the brandy and sigh. "The materials we gathered are critical to getting Ghira to step down. If I don't take over, the White Fang will fail and our people will be subjugated and oppressed. I could not allow that to happen."
"You'd have found some way to make it work." Arthur argued. Sienna laughed hollowly at that.
"Why should I? I was buying overpriced goods from the very people responsible for the struggle I fight every single day. Why should I have restrained myself, when I have personally witnessed countless times when they did not?" She drank again and then handed the last of the brandy back to Arthur. He finished it slowly, then let the decanter join the whiskey bottles in floor. When had the other one gotten down there?
"I have faith that you would have found a way." Arthur said with the kind of conviction a religious man would have. "You care too much about your people to let them be treated like animals. And you know as well as I do how rebels and murderers get treated. I know you would have figured something out."
"Hmm." She didn't seem to believe him, but Sienna let it go and leaned with the sway of the ship. That whimsical urge put her shoulder to shoulder with the gunslinger, his larger frame taking her without complaint. "I am glad to have met you, Arthur Morgan. You are a better man than you give yourself credit for."
"Well, if the Lady Khan says it, I guess it's some kind of true." Arthur declared with a grin, earning a swat on the arm. He turned to look at her, her amber eyes lidded with contentment and her cheeks a dusky shade of red. Even with the ears on her head, she struck him as an exotic woman, strong and fierce and ready to protect all she held dear. When Sienna looked at him, she saw a world weary man that hated himself more than anything else in the world, and did his best to help the people he cared about. Since he was here, sharing his story with her and trying to bear her burden with her, she assumed that meant that she fell into that category.
The night blurred together after that, and neither one could really recall anything that happened further.
The rocking of the ship had been a constant thing, so it was something of a surprise that it woke Arthur up with such force. He sat up in a rush, completely unaware of his surroundings, and only succeeded in slamming his forehead into the cot above him. Coupled with the splitting headache the hangover gave him, Arthur groaned piteously and just laid there on the floor for a moment, trying to keep his rebellious stomach in check.
Wait, the floor? The last thing he remembered, he and Sienna had been swapping stories, and then the brandy had been uncorked. Considering the decanter was under his head like the world's most unforgiving pillow, it had obviously gone quickly.
"Morgan, you fool." He chastised himself, voice rough with drink and sleepiness. Another groan above answered him, and Arthur came to the second conclusion of the morning. He had not woken up inside his cabin. Looking down, Arthur found his third realization not far behind. He was clad in his boots, pants, and shirt, but his vest was nowhere to be found. The white alligator hide garment was AWOL, and He'd be sure to find it as soon as the navy stopped firing cannons inside of his skull.
The cool floor provided a reprieve for only so long, and eventually Arthur was forced to stand. As he slowly climbed to his feet, the nausea and headache only increased in severity, and he was forced to consider an escape route to the head. Thankfully, his lunch stayed where it belonged, and he wasn't going to have to explain to Sienna why her toilet was a different color. Speaking of Sienna, he turned and blearily looked down at the cot next to him.
Sienna Khan, the respected squad leader of the White Fang and its future Supreme Leader, was snoring. Not the loud, obnoxious sound like when Bill shifted in his tent at night, but just a light breath of air through her nose every now and again. In lieu of her blanket, his now discovered vest covered her upper body, unbuttoned and spread out like a blanket. Some time during their talk, he must have covered her up after she fell asleep. The fact that he'd passed out onto the floor afterwards was somehow less surprising.
She can keep it for now. He decided, groaning again as his head continued to pound. His hat still sat on the table next to the hatch. Groggily staggering over to it, Arthur collapsed into the chair and grabbed his hat, sticking it on his head and avoiding the few light sources in the room. Maybe if he took another nap, the pain would go away...
CLANK CLANK CLANK!
"Jesus fucking Christ..." Arthur grumbled as the hatch next to him took a beating. Whoever was outside must not have heard him, because they gave it another series of blows that echoed in Arthur's head. Over on the cot, Sienna shifted and groaned, pawing at her ears in a feeble attempt to keep out the calamitous noise.
"Lady Khan! We have a message from Leader Belladonna!" Was that Tukson's voice? Didn't the guy have enough to do already? "Also, I can't find Arthur anywhere. Have you seen him?" Yeah, he's right here, Arthur wanted to say. Still, she was discreet last night because she didn't need any rumors starting so close to her promotion. As such, Arthur wisely stayed silent.
Sienna, however, was still afflicted by the morning's horrors and stood up quickly. Her feline grace was only partially present as she staggered to the door, one arm through the hole of Arthur's unbuttoned vest. He started to say something, were it not for the dead and impatient look in her eyes.
Sienna threw the hatch open with a vengeance, revealing Tukson's face and his hand raised to knock again. Whatever greeting the man had died on his tongue, however, and his eyes nearly widened enough to explode out of his face. Standing there, in all her majesty, was Lady Khan. Wearing half of Arthur's vest, her hair matted and disheveled, her eyes lidded both from exhaustion and a total lack of patience and understanding. To her left and not wearing his vest (because she was), the missing Arthur Morgan sat rubbing his temples.
"Morning." Arthur said sarcastically.
The combination of Arthur and Sienna, as well as the implication of their situation, totally shut down Tukson's brain. It took all the information from Ghira's call and the captain's update and threw them out the window in the face of the most scandalous looking thing he had ever seen with his own two eyes. Added to the fact that he had read all of Arthur's journal and was fairly certain that the man was either an alien or a time traveler, discovering him in Sienna's room was doubly confounding.
"Uh." Was the eloquent response Tukson came up with. Sienna stared at him as he continued to gape, his jaw working uselessly and no sound coming out.
"Report." She stated it. She didn't order it, she didn't ask nicely. Sienna simply said the word and let the implications behind her anger make themselves known. Thankfully, Tukson's years in the White Fang had instilled in him a certain sense of self preservation.
"You know, I think I'll come back later. You seem busy." He was gone before Sienna could slam the door closed, running like his life depended on it. And if her coordination hadn't been hampered by the hangover, it probably would have been.
"Way to avoid the rumor, Sienna." Arthur pointed out, keeping the brim of his hat down to protect himself from all the light in the room. The tigress turned and looked at him, then looked down at the vest that still clung to her lithe, muscular frame. She was wearing her regular dress and boots underneath it, but it had certainly hidden that fact well. Coupled with the fact that Tukson had been looking for Arthur as well...
Sienna could only sigh heavily, and Arthur nodded as well. So much for squashing that rumor.
As the morning shifted closer to afternoon and the two fully recovered from their embarrassing wake up call, Sienna and Arthur came to find out that Ghira had found success in his venture as well, and was already moving to the southern tip of the continent to prepare for transport to Menagerie. As such, Sienna's team was to meet him at the southern tip of Anima and he two teams would perform a total count of their supplies together and transport them from there. The other good news was that the ship was scheduled to dock just before noon.
Arthur had slunk out of Sienna's cabin when they were certain no other witnesses would come knocking. It gave Sienna time to get ready, and the two avoided each other until the ship reached Mistral's coast, with Arthur staying in the hold with Famine and Sienna directing the White Fang's final landing preparations. Arthur had made sure to catch Tukson, who had apologized profusely for interrupting. Arthur explained what had happened the previous night, or at least as best he could tell, and Tukson reluctantly admitted that he had thought something far more carnal had gone on. Arthur forgave him for it, on the condition that if he spread around what he did see, Sienna would be the first to know.
Watching the blood drain from the man's face told Arthur he had made the right call.
His hangover had been mostly handled by the time they made landfall, stopping in the coastal town of Trinity. Unlike Vacuo's pier, this one was much more lively and had a small village built around it. No one gave the White Fang any grief, though Arthur and his horse got strange looks. He made sure to get Famine ashore as fast as possible, both to get out of the way of the trucks and to stop him from leaving any more droppings in the cargo hold. Cleaning up horseshit was one thing, but doing it with a hangover just guaranteed that he'd be painting the walls with vomit.
Three hours later, the captain and his crew were compensated with the last of the White Fang's lien. Sienna thanked him for helping them, and Mathieson waved her off.
"If it weren't for you, we'd be down to Davy Jones." The captain said resolutely. "And you can be damned sure that we'll tell everyone who listens what you did for us." Sienna accepted his praise as graciously as she could, and soon she was in the first truck off the dock as they entered Mistral.
To say that it was different from Vacuo would be a colossal understatement. Whereas Vacuo had reminded Arthur of West Elizabeth, all rock and sand and hardy plants, Mistral was a temperate forest paradise. Massive trees towered over them, and there was nothing but grass and underbrush as far as the eye could see. The buildings in town were strangely eastern in design, with slanted, multi-tiered roofs and thin, sliding doors. Arthur had seen such descriptions about China and Japan, but nothing he'd seen in a newspaper or magazine could do the structures here justice. It truly was majestic.
The people were just as colorful. Same as in Vacuo, there was no limit to color when it came to hair and eyes. They wore more respectable clothing though, more styled for kimonos and robes than the tattered desert clothes of Vacuo. Sienna's outfit definitely looked more natural here. There were Faunus here and there two, and they seemed excited to hear that the White Fang were coming through. Many came out to see them, though Arthur was once again subjected to curious stares. Was it really so strange to see a human traveling with the White Fang?
Just as the last truck rolled out of the customs shop, Arthur heard a loud commotion coming from the ship. Fearing another Grimm attack, he started toward the pier with his hand on his weapon. Just as his boots met wood, however, the source of the disturbance was revealed: a young blonde boy was running from the sailors, mocking them with rude gestures as he ran. He wore a ratty t-shirt and blue jean shorts, and a blonde monkey tail protruded from his seat. The bare footed boy ran past Arthur, who could only watch with a wry grin as the kid disappeared into the crowd, forcing the sailors to give up lest they cause a scene.
A stowaway, huh. Arthur was impressed. I didn't even know he was there. Whatever the reason, the kid had come from Vacuo to Mistral, and there wasn't much getting him back now. Arthur wished him good luck, then slowly made his way to the White Fang column. When he saddled up next to the lead truck, Sienna rolled the window down on the passenger seat next to him.
"Are you ready, Mr. Morgan?" She asked neutrally, maintaining the image of the commander. Arthur tipped his hat to her and bowed a little, ready to take up escort position. It'd be like when they had guided wagons back in the States.
"As I'll ever be, Lady Khan. You lead, I'll follow." She smirked at his answer, then slapped the side of the truck with authority. The White Fang on the outside of the trucks stood a little straighter, and they held their weapons the way they had been trained. Their commander was demanding their service and protection, and like anyone that followed a true leader they would give it with gusto. Arthur felt a surge of pride as well as he watched the column slowly leave Trinity. This was what he thought he had had with Dutch. When more than half of them had passed him, Arthur pulled his hat down and fell in beside them.
Up above them, a black bird rode the sea breeze, its crimson eyes watching their every move.