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The Little Things

Summary:

Set after the events of the game. You and Arthur have been living together for a while, and you find a little secret that he’s been holding.

Notes:

Originally published on Tumblr: It was supposed to be a short fluffy imagine, buuuuut once I started I couldn’t stop. TB? Nah, just misdiagnosed pneumonia that nearly kills our poor Arthur. Or chronic bronchitis, who the hell knows in those days, he just needs to quit smoking.

Work Text:

It’s 1903. It’s been four years since the gang split up and you rescued Arthur from that rat Micah. He was covered in knife wounds and barely clinging to life. Micah was ready to stab Arthur in the back as he crawled. But you were quicker. You ran into Micah’s back, knife in hand, with all of your might and stabbed him in his right lung. You didn’t even see Dutch leaving the three of you to die near the cave.

Luckily, you had the strength to carry Arthur to your horse and take him to the Wapiti Reservation. It was an extremely lengthy and challenging recovery for Arthur. There were nights you laid next to him and worried he wouldn’t wake up the next morning. It seemed that one day he’d improve, but the next he’d be in a feverish sweat and unresponsive.

But that was long ago now. While he’ll never fully recover his strength, the important thing is he’s alive. And with you.
You stayed with the tribe for seven months while Arthur recovered. The pair of you then wandered the country for a while before deciding to move to Canada, inspired by Charles’ idea. Charles promised Arthur that he would spread the news that he died there at Beaver Hollow. So the two of you could start a new life, with new identities.

You both came across an abandoned cabin deep in the woods. It needed work, but it was a cute little cabin with a small barn nearby. Perfect for the two of you.

You encourage him to let you carry the brunt of the house work. He wants to be useful and help, as being the work horse is the only life he’s ever known. However, you do your best to remind him that he’s not the young man he once was. You’d rather not see him collapse like he did when he overworked himself trying to patch the leaky roof on your humble home. You refresh his memory of how upset you were when you sprinted to his side while he laid on the ground unconscious.

Arthur is now nearing his 40th birthday, and he decides he wants to go hunting.

Well, he decided to, but it took days of relentless begging on his part to persuade you to let him go. You were ready to put your foot down until he made a good point on how you’ve been babying him for the past couple years you’ve owned this house together.

To be honest, he was right. You felt guilty, but you implored you had a good reason to coddle him. You nearly lost him once, you didn’t want to risk losing him again.

So off he went early one morning before dawn. You barely felt him rise out of bed. You woke when he kissed you goodbye. You couldn’t help but sleepily mumble to him, “Be safe out there.”

A few hours go by as the sun slowly rises. You decide the cabin needs some deep cleaning.

Throughout the day, you scrub and repair nearly every corner of the house. You’re nearly finished in the bedroom when you walk over to Arthur’s side of the bed.

As you walk over to his nightstand to put something away, you step on a loose floorboard. You feel it shift oddly under your weight with a loud squeak.

That’s odd. Never noticed that before.

You kneel down and inspect the loose floorboard. It looks like someone used it as a floor safe, as you notice the scratch marks on one end where the person most likely used a knife to raise it up.

You go to the kitchen to grab a knife. Your heartbeat quickens at this discovery. Could there be valuables left by the previous owner? Jewelry? Perhaps even gold?

You finally wiggle the knife in the board enough to pop it up. You reach down into the small space and discover a cigar box.
As you open it, you gasp in surprise.

What you find is of no monetary value. But it’s still a treasure to you.

They’re letters. And cards. And small trinkets. All given to Arthur from you.

He kept every single one from the day he met you.

Even little notes you once left at his bedside telling him you were out on a job. They didn’t mean much to you, but they meant a lot to Arthur.

As you sort through the box, you read each one.

Arthur,
Out with Mary-Beth in Rhodes to get supplies. Bill is escorting us.
See you soon.
-Y/N ❤️

—————–
Arthur,
I noticed you got into a bit of a brawl with a local. So I picked up some salve for you. Be sure to use it on those cuts.
-Y/N :)

—————-

You come across a valentine card. It’s actually the first one you gave him. You were just friends at that point, but you wanted him to know how much you admired him. You were still too shy and decided to sign it anonymously and leave it at his tent while he was gone.

On the front of the card was a faded drawing of a cherub with a bow and arrow, surrounded by red roses and blue birds.
On the inside, you had tried your best to write in your prettiest handwriting:

Happy Valentine’s Day!
You are sweeter than sugar.
You bring the sunshine on a rainy day.
Your laugh makes my heart skip rope.
Your eyes make the sea green with envy at their beauty.
Don’t forget that you are loved.

Yours truly,

A secret admirer

You chuckle at the memory. You forgot about that sappy love card. You were never a good poet. While a part of you wanted him to know it was you at the time, you were still nervous and embarrassed. You remember cursing yourself for listening to Mary-Beth. She was the one who came up with the idea.

Looking back at it now, you’re glad you listened to her.

You remember the note you received the next day in reply,

Y/N,
Thank you for the card.
Didn’t think I’d recognize your handwriting? Though I hope I’m right.
If you’d like to, meet me under the big birch tree where we target practice.

If not, I understand.
- A.M.

You suddenly feel a tear roll down your cheek at the memory. You never thought he kept all of these notes and letters from you. You were delighted knowing that you hold such a special place in his heart.

As you continue reading them, you don’t hear the front door open, or the quiet footsteps behind you.

“Y/N?”

You nearly jump off the floor and give a quick yelp. You turn around to see Arthur standing behind you. Confusion covering his face, until he sees the letters you have clutched to your chest.

You see him staring at you. You stammer nervously, “I- I’m sorry. I-I-I didn’t mean to snoop around your uh, things. It’s just that uh…I noticed the uh, floorboard here a-and…”

Arthur smiles at your awkwardness. He steps forward with his right hand out to you, tinged red in blood and dirt caked under his fingernails. He gently grasps at your shoulders.
“I guess you had to find out sooner or later,” Arthur says with a shrug.

“I know it’s silly,” he mumbles. “But I couldn’t throw ‘em away.”

You grip the letters even tighter against your chest. You can’t help but smile at how sheepish he’s acting right now.
Big, tough guy Arthur Morgan is blushing.

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck, “I liked keepin’ ‘em and readin’ ‘em whenever I needed to. I’d keep a few in my saddlebags and read ‘em whenever I was gone. Made it feel like you was there next to me.”

Arthur continues, “After that whole mess back at Beaver Hollow, I was worried I lost ‘em. So, I asked Charles to look for ‘em for me when we was with the Wapitis.”

As he continues explaining, he slowly plucks one of the notes from your grip.

“I’m glad I put ‘em in a lock box, cause when Charles found it, it was all burnt up.” he chuckles while looking at the note in his hand. “Luckily, these were safe.”

“Arthur,” you finally say. He raises his head to look at you with those beautiful eyes of his.

“This is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.” Your blink as tears escape your eyes. “I’m glad you kept them.”

You open one arm up and embrace Arthur in a tight hug, kissing his cheek. You take a small step back to break the hug until Arthur pulls you back. He wraps both his arms around you and nearly squeezes the breath out of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. The papers crinkle in the tight embrace.

“I love you so much,” he says.

“I love you too,” you reply.

Together, you put the letters back in the box and under the floorboard.

You then cook a wonderful stew with the venison he had gotten that morning.

Later in the evening, you treat Arthur to a bath. While massaging his head, you ask Arthur what he’d like for his birthday.

“Just you,” he says, leaning his head back to look up at you.

You smile and brush your lips against his. He parts his soft lips as you continue to kiss him. He slips his tongue gently into your mouth, tapping the tip of your tongue with his.

The two of you proceed to make love three times that night.