Vows of Returning: A Red Dead Redemption 2 Story ( Arthur Morgan xOC )

A Sorceress' Plans: Declarations, unmade

CW: Descriptions of killing, blood are in this chapter.

In the week after the party and leading up to his attending the opera with Lena, Arthur finds himself in an electric mood. He'd assumed one of his lazier aliases, Arthur Callahan, onboard the gambling ship the Grand Korrigan to discreetly rob a poker game. He'd done it gladly, without the usual grumbling - even when he, Javier, Strauss, and Josiah Trelawny had to unexpectedly abandon ship with their ill-gotten gains.

"Has this one been touched?" Trelawny later crowed theatrically, gesturing to Arthur, that night surrounding the main fire. "I positively winced when we had to swim for our lives, thinking it might be easier to drown than suffer Arthur Morgan's complaining." The attendant gang had laughed, and Trelawny scrutinized Arthur's placid smile. "Look, nothing! Most definitely touched." Hosea had gazed across the flames at Arthur, knowingly.

Others also seemed to notice his change in demeanour. When he'd brought his waterlogged suit to Tilly to have it cleaned, he'd wordlessly placed a chocolate bar and new adventure novel next to it, prompting her bewildered, "Um, thanks, Arthur? Is it my birthday or somethin'?"

Of course, it was his unexpected, glittering evening with Lena at the Mayor's party that'd changed his perspective. He filled the intervening days channeling her opinions and mannerisms. It was Lena's voice, speaking through him, that maintained a charming, affable disposition in the face of Desmond Blythe, his mark at the poker table. He was composing little letters to her once again, really, more of an ongoing dialogue, seeking out her guidance or reflections on all manner of things happening within the gang. The furtive relationship blooming between Mary-Beth and Kieran, cut short by the young man's unexpected departure from camp; Charles heading north to assist the Wapiti tribe in protecting their land from encroaching government forces; Micah's continued brooding around the campfire at all hours of the night. All catch his quiet notice and are saved up to tell her on Saturday, along with - if he can muster the courage - his growing feelings.

*

On Saturday, Arthur eats a can of peaches by the low morning fire, drinks his coffee, has a cigarette. He spots the Adler widow, Sadie, cleaning her rifle by the front of the house, and makes his way over to greet her. "Mrs. Adler, how do you do?"

"'How do you do?'" She repeats, wrinkling her freckled nose, laughing. "I'd heard you'n Dutch'd joined high society of late, but didn't quite believe it 'til just now." Sadie glances down at her gun. "I think my society days are behind me," she says quietly, almost to herself. Arthur gives a gentle punch to her shoulder, leans forward conspiratorially.

"Well, I just saw Bill Williamson at a party at the Saint Denis' mayor's house. If he can do it, anyone can." They laugh together, until Dutch beckons from the front door for Arthur to join him.

"When am I gonna get to come robbing with you all, Dutch?" Sadie calls after their retreating backs, as they make their way up to the balcony. At her insistence and doggedness, Arthur's again reminded of Lena, and he smiles to himself as he takes a proffered cigar from Dutch, settling into one of the rickety chairs overlooking the property.

"You know, I've been looking at that trolley station," Dutch says, taking a puff and leaning against one of the supporting columns. Arthur looks up at him, imploring him to go on. "The one Bronte told us about. I think we can hit it."

Arthur bristles at Bronte's name, remembering his cruel treatment of Lena in front of his associates; the distinct slap he'd heard after escaping the Mayor's study at the party. "I ain't never robbed in a city before," he replies, somewhat absent-mindedly.

"You'll ride with me, though?" There's a slight hitch to Dutch's voice, a faint neediness.

"Always," Arthur affirms, fixing him with a steady gaze, to which Dutch brightens.