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Arthur has his hands full with new jobs and responsibilities being hauled at him. Dutch is never satisfied, he's the kind of person that lives for the hunt, not for the result.

And you feel like it's a subtle punishment, too. Dutch wants to maintain his good person facade, but also show Arthur that stepping out of line is something he tolerates very little, if at all. So he puts him to work, much more than before, Arthur stays away weeks at a time. At one point, you move your own cot into his caravan so that you can cater to Isaac's needs more efficiently. No-one seems to have anything to say about that, fortunately.

There is nobleness to be found within Dutch's inhumane demands, however. A good chunk of what he unrightfully earns is given away to orphanages, beggars, and wherever else his Robin Hood-esque ideals drive him to donate.

You learn two very important things about Dutch van der Linde.

First, he runs on the feeling of successfulness. Second, the gang of outlaws he has raised based on his ideals is the safest ticket towards that.

The man may be slippery, self-absorbed and silver-tongued, but by god, he's smart. He's hammered loyalty into every gang member's head, something much more stable and reliable than money could ever hope to buy. Dutch has raised them, saved them, sheltered them, and in return, his grip on them is steel-like without them even knowing it.

Arthur Morgan unfortunately included.

So when Isaac is added to the mix, you can understand why Dutch is not particularly fond of him. Arthur, as opposed to John, wants to be a good father more than anything else. And it's that which clouds his blind loyalty and sobers up his senses.

Himself, Arthur Morgan can disregard. His son, not so much.

Arthur talks to you about how he's considered bringing his son into an orphanage, how he wonders if that childhood is better than what he can offer.

You beg to differ, you've spent your childhood in one.

Arthur listens to what you have to tell about the many horrors of a parent-less youth, he nods, understands. He's always eager to learn, so receptive of his surroundings that it leaves you wondering how he hasn't noticed Dutch's influence.

But that talk is one of the few interactions you still have with Arthur in the upcoming weeks. He makes time for you when he returns to camp, always, unfortunately those instances are rare. More often than not, he finds you and Isaac asleep, and doesn't dare interfere with your slumber.

One time, while you're fast asleep, Jack starts crying, and disturbed by the noise, Isaac does too. Through tired, half-lidded eyes, you watch Arthur, barely arrived in camp, take his son in his arms easily, trying not to smudge his son's skin with the gunpowder that sticks to his calloused hands.

"Hey, easy now." Arthur whispers, moving to cradle his son to his chest. Isaac's sobs don't die down, you silently think it may have something to do with the noise Jack is creating. But you won't tell Arthur, not just yet. Part of you is curious to see him handling the situation. "Wouldn't wanna wake (y/n), would we?"

You stifle a giggle, successfully so. Arthur hasn't noticed you're awake yet — he's too focused on Isaac.

"Let's get ya somewhere quiet."

With that, Arthur leaves his caravan behind, carefully closing the leather flaps behind him so that the sound of them falling closed does not wake you.

You wait for a few seconds, then carefully slide out of your cot. You slip on your shoes, put on something over your chemise, just enough to make you withstand the chilly summer night air. Without Arthur taking notice, you follow him towards the periphery of camp, into the woods nearby.

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