HIS | Arthur Morgan X Reader

Promises in Rhodes

A/N: Warnings smut.

Numb.

There was no other word to describe what you were feeling as you lay buried under blankets in your tent. It's around noon and Arthur had been gone since yesterday and the pitying looks from the camp had driven you to hide, no longer could you take the side glances and whispered conversations.

Dutch seemed to have forgotten about the O'Driscolls, the news of your pregnancy seems to have shaken him to the core, he'd spent most of his time since finding out alone by the river. A litter of finished cigars scattered by his feet. Hosea had tried to talk to him, attempting to convince him to help him go in search of Arthur but he'd simply mutter to himself about Arthur making his own decisions.

You sit up and pull your knees to your chest and you begin to contemplate what your next move is. As much as you don't want to entertain the thought of a life without Arthur, you're aware that now there's more than just yourself to consider.

You stroke your belly, wondering when you'll begin to feel the life moving within. "What are we going to do little bean?" Tears begin to well at the silence that follows as you realize you've no idea what you're doing. Tugging the blanket closer around your shoulders you close your eyes and inhale the scent that is Arthur's, hoping it won't fade too quickly.

"YOU GODDAMN BASTARD ARTHUR MORGAN, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" Abigail's screams cause you to snap your head up.

"Abigail would you-OW!. Goddammit, woman. OW STOP!

You push yourself from the bed at the sound of his voice and rush out of the tent to the sight of Arthur trying to block Abigail as she swings at him with one of Pearson's pans.

"How dare you run away from her; I'm going to make you wish you were never born!" she aims a particularly forceful swing at his head which he avoids by ducking and covering his head.

"Woman, I said sto- "

"Arthur?"

"Y/N, I-OW Jesus!" he turns and see's you just as the pan connects with his temple.

"Go inside Y/N, I'll get rid of the bastard." She raises the pan again, but John grabs it from her, dragging her back and telling her to quit it.

Arthur straightens as he rubs his temple, his eyes looking bloodshot and tired as they meet yours.

"Y/n" he breathes your name as he slowly crosses over to you, taking your hands in his. "Y/N I- "

"You left." Your voice is small, and you hate the way it quivers.

His hands squeeze yours as his eyes cast down. He genuinely looks like hell, dark circles underline his eyes, probably mirroring yours, and his bruises are turning a deeper shade of purple. The stubble on his face now a few days old and borderline scruffy.

"I'm sorry, I left as I did, I panicked."

"Arthur I'm scared too, I've no idea what to do with a baby, but you can't just run away like that."

His hand leaves yours and reaches up to thumb away a tear sliding down your cheek, his calloused thumb slowly stroking you before reaching into his jacket.

"That's not why I left. I left because I needed to get this."

He pulls out a small pouch as you frown in confusion, watching as he drops gingerly to one knee, you don't miss the small wince as he bends.

"I'm a fool and an idiot but I love you and I want to do right by you. You deserve better than this life, you, and our baby, but if there's one thing I can do, one thing I want to do, marry you. So, Y/N Y/L/N, will you do this old fool the honors and be my wife?