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Chapter Text

Despite the suffocating heat hanging like fog around the trees of Clemens Point, Arthur was packing his winter coat and layers into one of Duffy's saddlebags. Nestled into the thick folds of his blue overcoat were several more tins of canned fruit that he couldn't fit into his satchel, some predator bait and plenty of cover scent lotion. He secured the straps, gave Duffy's flank a couple of pats and turned to watch the rest of the camp slowly crawling out of their various states of doziness.

The sun wasn't yet high, meaning the heat that clung to the sweaty back of Arthur's neck was the tamer end of the temperatures they endured here. He'd be glad to get up to the frigid chill of the Grizzlies - when you had plenty of food and plenty of layers, it was practically serene.

Arthur was drawn out of his lazy pondering by a frazzled figure brushing past him on the way to another horse. Kieran busied himself with shoving his own (borrowed) winter gear into Branwen's bags and murmuring encouragement into the dopey horse's ear. Coyly smiling at the man, Arthur stretched and turned to properly watch him over Duffy's saddle. "You about ready?"

Doeish eyes peered back at him, "J-just about, I think. You sure we shouldn't bring more food? You got the tent?"

"We got as much to last us the way there and back twice over, ya nitwit. And if we run out by some cruel act of God then we got weapons, we'll just catch something, alright?"

"Yes, yes, alright," Kieran fumbled with Branwen's girth, "But you got the tent?"

"Yes, Christ, I got the tent. We'll be fine." he paused, picking a spot of grit from Duffy’s mane, “Mind you, I don’t know why we need it, considerin’ we’ll be just fine and cosy in one of the smaller rooms up at Colter.”

“Just in case.”

Taking a chance while the rest of the camp was still sleepy and scattered, Arthur slipped around Duffy's rear and brushed up against his companion. A flush quickly coloured Kieran's neck and cheeks, as he “accidentally” bumped up against Arthur's broad chest while fixing Branwen's bit. It wasn't often they got these small moments of intimacy while in camp, nowhere private for them (neither of them being very keen on public displays of affection). That was mostly the reason they were heading out together - some time alone.

Arthur saw John on watch with his rifle, eyeing them curiously, but when his eyes met his brother's he nodded and turned away. As far as Arthur was aware no one in camp would have any issue with them (save Bill and Micah), but they still preferred to keep to themselves. He gave Kieran's ear a sly peck and stepped away, checking over Duffy's saddle one last time before unhitching him and mounting up.

Following close behind, Kieran steered Branwen around towards the path leading out of camp. Together, they trotted away - Arthur giving one last goodbye to John as they passed - and broke into canters once they cleared the trees.

"So it's a wolf we're after?"

Kieran didn't wait long before breaking the silence. Leading them North, Arthur sniffed, "Some peace an' quiet's what we're after. But yeah, was a wolf they said."

Arthur couldn't see the shy smile on Kieran's face but he could hear it. "You call huntin' a wolf size of a bear 'peace an' quiet'?"

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah," Kieran rode up next to him on the wider road, "S'pose I do."

For a while now, Arthur had been looking for an excuse to get Kieran out of camp and somewhere they could relax. In reality, he could have lied - a bounty, a wild horse he'd seen needing breaking, so on - but he'd been too busy with errands to even think about running off with his boyfriend for a few days. Too much to do. Too many mouths to feed, scores to make.

So when he'd heard from a couple of drunks in Rhodes about a wolf the size of a small bear up in the Grizzlies, he'd taken the chance. Could be complete bullshit passed from alcohol-sodden fool to alcohol-sodden fool, but could also be true and mean food for a good long while and a unique pelt that would earn him something more than a deerskin would.

And some free time with Kieran.

The story was that this wolf was elusive, appearing only at night and only for a few days of the month - around the full moon, how romantic. It sounded as phony as phony comes, but worse comes to worst - they could find a bear up there to lug back.

As their ride inclined, Arthur murmured soothing praise to his horse, petting his thick neck. "S'all right, Duffy boy, you're okay."

"Did- Did you have to name him that?"

A smile twitched at the corner of Arthur's lips, as he readied himself for his favourite quarrel, "Course I did."

"Arthur, I'm flattered, but you know I know it gets confusin'." Kieran grated at his ear.

"Yeah, hell, sometimes I can't even tell the diff'rence between you two. Yer both cute 's each other." The smile grew to a lazy grin, a jaunty angle to his hips.

Kieran scoffed, "Oh, mister, you think you're so smooth - it ain't that flatterin' being compared to a horse, despite what you might think, Morgan."

"And you know's well as I do that that's a damn lie. You love it just as much as you love these horses. Don't think I don't see you fussin' and kissin' all over 'em every hour, boy."

His companion slipped into sulky but flustered silence after that, and Arthur sat back in satisfaction. Another victory in flirting.

In truth, Arthur had thought at great lengths about the naming of his horse. The name came to him just fine - Duffy, because the stallion's withered grey dappled coat and soft eyes reminded him of his beloved - but he wondered about the consequences for a great long while. He knew it wouldn't offend Kieran (in fact Arthur was quite sure he'd love it), however he thought about how long it would take before calling his horse and getting his boyfriend's accidental attention instead would get annoying.

So far, it hadn't. It was quite charming to call his horse and catch Kieran glancing around in bemusion. He didn't regret his choice in the slightest.

They rode on as the sun slowly climbed, hoping to get out of the south before it got too high. They planned to stop in Valentine for a spot of breakfast, give the horses a break after a few hours of riding, then set off again and take a detour up to Donner Falls. They were in no rush to get to Colter, wanted to spend plenty of time off their horses and lounging about with each other in the sun. They’d eat lunch - tinned fruit and poultry meat - in the shade of the ledge next to the waterfall, out of sight of anyone travelling above them. Keep themselves to themselves, and their affections neatly hidden away under the ridge.

All in all, Arthur thought he’d planned this beautifully. And Kieran had no protests, so clearly he was doing something right.

With the sun making its steady ascent, they turned into Valentine. Arthur’s pocketwatch said around nine in the morning. Hitching up outside Smith’s, Arthur let Kieran ahead into the saloon and followed briskly behind.

Soon enough they were both seated at the bar with steaming bowls of beef stew in front of them and their thighs inconspicuously touching. As they ate, they discussed the plan. If they made good time, they’d get to Colter before sunset, in time to catch something to use as real bait. Predator bait was alright, but Arthur wanted to be sure, and he was convinced something big and recently dead would be much more tempting for their canine compatriot.

They’d leave it out strung up somewhere, have their own dinner, then hopefully squeeze in an hour or two’s rest before staying up the rest of the night waiting for it. If the wolf showed, they’d shoot it. If it didn’t, they’d find something else (considerably less impressive) to take home. Arthur had been smart in not boasting about his find - so no one knew what to expect from their little hunting trip. If they brought back something that wasn’t a magnanimous wolf, he’d suffer no ridicule or needling from the more immature members of the gang. And lord knows he was tired of that by now.

As it neared ten o’ clock, the two finished up their conversation and thanked the bartender greatly. They mounted back up, bellies still warm, to begin the trek off-course towards Donner Falls. Arthur saw his companion feeding Branwen an oatcake out of the corner of his eye, and smiled and hummed a tune.

A few hours later, with the sun reaching its peak, they carefully led the horses down the gravel slope towards the river. Kieran’s long fingers fished another two carrots from his pocket and the horses settled just fine. A few feet away, Arthur was smoothing out the tent's tarp on the dusty rock floor - to act as a sort of picnic blanket - while Kieran carted over their food to rest in the creases.

Leaning against each other and the wall, Arthur and Kieran ate and laughed and messed around. When Kieran noticed the strawberry juice that the rim of the can had left on Arthur’s nose, he was bold enough to lean forward and lick it off. It wasn’t often he got to see that deep, rosy blush that reddened Arthur’s entire face - even spreading to his ears and down his throat. Instantly he turned to cough unconvincingly into his sleeve, trying and failing to conceal how flustered he was. Kieran sat back and chuckled.

“When did you get so daring, huh?” came muffled from the hand now scrubbing restlessly over Arthur’s stubble. The blush still didn’t fade.

Kieran hummed in the back of his throat, eyes sliding away and towards Branwen grazing at what little grass was poking up between the cracks in the rock. “It rubs off, I expect.”

“Now what’s your meanin’?”

Another hoarse laugh was Kieran’s response, and he found himself sidling closer and settling on Arthur’s lap, not yet leaning in so far as to let their lips meet. “My meanin’ is that hangin’ around such a fearless fella as yourself has its perks, you fool. I don’t find myself- well, quite as skittish.”

Now it was Arthur’s turn to laugh, “Oh, you’re still plenty skittish.”

“Morgan, you ass!” a playful slap against Arthur’s shoulder, “I’m less, at least. You… make me feel stronger. And I ain’t being all soppy when I say that-”

Arthur silenced him with a kiss. “I know what you’re meanin’, you buffoon,” he edged away ever so slightly to mumble, “I feel the same way.”

“I wouldn’t think you could be any stronger, yer built like a bear, darlin’.” Kieran’s tongue darted out over his chapped lips, still just centimetres from Arthur’s.

“Naw, you ain’t seen in my head. Lately… Kieran, lately I been feelin’ myself… doubtin’. Doubtin’ Dutch, his plan, the West.” Arthur widened the distance between them, leaning back with his mouth drawing into a hard and troubled line. “It just don’t seem doable anymore. Don’t… don’t seem nothing more but childish daydreams.”

“Arthur…”

Waving him off, the man continued, “Naw, naw, it’s fine. Had t’ grow up eventually.” Kieran frowned at the forlorn gaze that had come to Arthur’s eyes, but he nodded softly. Meeting his eyes, Arthur brought a hand up to rest on Kieran’s cheek, stroking down along his jaw. “Oh, but you, Kieran… Yer the only thing I’m always certain of. Like a- I dunno, a tree.”

“...A tree?”

“Now don’t go judgin’ my metaphors, I ain’t so much the literary type. You’re solid, sturdy, and, um,” he sniffed, “You got roots, too, buried deep in my life so I know you ain’t goin’ anywhere. Yer my anchor, really.”

“Arthur, I-”

“You don’t gotta say nothin’. I just- I just wanted you to know. Thought you ought to.”

A moment, then Kieran lowered his head to tuck softly in Arthur’s neck. “I think you’re mighty fine, Arthur Morgan.”

The sounds of wheels and hooves above them faded into gentle background music, with the accompaniment of the forest noises and the roar of the river down below. Kieran had shifted down to lay against Arthur, his ear to the other’s chest, and his eyes closed as he listened to the melody that was his boyfriend’s breathing. Noting with concern the slight rattle, he made a mental note to badger Arthur into seeing a doctor - never could be too careful. With that thought put aside for later, he lifted a hand above him to feel around; up Arthur’s neck, over his bushy jaw, until his knobbly fingers curled in the waves of the man’s hair.

Contentment, Kieran thought. He felt a lot around Arthur, unbearably so, so many thoughts and emotions building inside him and winding around his insides that he thought he might keel over and die just by looking at him. But contentment, he realised, was always there. In moments like these, it came to the forefront, snaking around his heart and pooling in his gut like sweetly-brewed coffee.

Happiness was so rare until now.

Chapter Text

Maybe he’d dropped off for a bit. Kieran opened his eyes and suddenly Arthur was nudging him off, giving him a sweet kiss but urging him away so they could pack up and move on. Disappointment weighed on Kieran, but nevertheless he packed away the empty cans (no sense spoiling such a beautiful spot) and untethered their horses, beginning to lead them back up the path.

Minutes later, with the tent packed away, they were riding on. Finally up to Colter.

The pathways slowly inclined, their horses chuntering away underneath them. Arthur glanced over at Kieran as snow began to appear around them, noting his wide eyes and slightly troubled expression. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well, I- I don’t mean to be ungrateful, Arthur, but Colter ain’t exactly a happy place in my memory.”

Arthur mentally punched himself. He’d been so caught up in the romance of it all that he’d forgotten that Kieran had still been a prisoner up there with an empty belly. He brought Duffy to a stop at where the hill they were climbing levelled off, dismounting. Stopping beside him, Kieran gazed down from atop Branwen, perplexed. “C’mon down, now.” Arthur held out his hand to help his companion down, the gentlemanly thing to do.

Ignoring Arthur’s gesture with skepticism, Kieran slid down and blinked in expectation. Arthur dug through Branwen’s saddlebags until he found Kieran’s winter coat and turned back to him, easing around until he could comfortably help his lover into it. Kieran looked amused now, but still confused.

“I’m sorry, Kieran. The big, dumb oaf I am, it.. It completely slipped my mind. We can turn back if you want, or find somewhere else to hole up, but I’m mighty embarrassed that I forgot it that easy.” He did up the buttons, smoothed down the front. “You.. you got every right to be mad at me, the buffoon I am, and whatever you want me to do to make it up to you, I-I will.”

Arthur was pointedly looking down, away from Kieran’s face - his eyes that would no doubt be wounded and full of venom. He’d screwed up so bad, as he always did. Kieran would never forgive him.

Instead, hands met the line of his jaw and gently tipped his head up. Kieran was there, looking touched, not resentful. “It’s- it’s okay, you big dummy. I forgive you. Maybe… I think maybe it’ll be nice to be up there, just with you, might make me feel better about bein’ there. Make some new memories, yeah?”

Blinking, Arthur jerkily nodded. “Uh, yeah. Yeah.”

They both geared up properly before continuing into the mountains, treating Duffy and Branwen to some oatcakes. When Arthur could see his breath crystallising in front of him, he smiled, looking up and around at the twinkling masses of white coating everything around them. Kieran was gazing around just the same, his nose red and face ruddy from the cold. By now, the sun was lowering from its highest position. Late afternoon.

Lake Isabella was completely frozen over as they galloped past, a few deer skittering away at the crunching of their hooves in the snow. Up past the lake, along the river through the gorge a while until they saw Colter in the distance. A complete ghost town, the only noises being the whistle of the icy wind through the gaps in rotting wooden shacks and the animals that skirted through the empty pathways and rooms.

Even Branwen seemed skittish as they trotted towards it, probably remembering his owner being strung up in the stables for a week. Arthur felt another wave of guilt hit him, but it softened ever so slightly when he looked over to see the steely determination etched into the lines on Kieran’s forehead. He wasn’t angry, he reassured himself. This would be a nice time, and if it wasn’t, he was happy to leave as soon as Kieran said the word.

But so far Kieran seemed like he’d snarl if Arthur even implied leaving. They steered towards the stable, made their horses comfortable, and Arthur grabbed his bow. They’d leave their sleeping things with the horses for now, no use getting them all cold by leaving them in the house. For now, they had bait to catch.

Trekking back through the snow, Kieran and Arthur waded along the gorg and towards Lake Isabella. Arthur had come to his own conclusions that wildlife was more likely to gather around the lake, so that was where they’d find their bait. He was thinking a buck, maybe a moose if they were lucky enough to spot one. His arrows were all carefully improved, poking out of his satchel and itching to embed themselves in some tough wild meat. Beside him, Kieran clutched the herbivore bait he’d brought along.

“Y’know, I’m gettin’ awful déjà vu out here.” Arthur began, watching his breath fade in front of him.

“That right?”

“Yeah. See, Hosea taught me how to hunt when I was a boy, but I never much had the regular use for it ‘til we got up here. Skills got a little rusty, so Charles took me out here to remind me how to track, use a bow, the lot. You know how to hunt?”

Kieran was thumbing over the bait, fiddling with the string tying it together, “Bits ‘n’ pieces, mostly. But I’m a fisherman at heart, you know that. I can catch a rabbit but I ain’t much for the kinda stuff I seen you take down.”

They were nearing the lake now. Arthur was watching Kieran’s fingers twitching and his lip being worried between his teeth. “You nervous at all?”

Kieran looked at him like he had grown a second head. “Christ, Arthur, yes I’m nervous! I-it’s one thing takin’ down a four pound bluegill, but a wolf? And- and you said it’s bear-sized?”

“Kieran, it’s only a rumour. And ‘sides, you’ll be fine. You got me, don’tcha?” Their shoulders nudged together as Arthur leaned closer.

“You’ll be of no use to me if you go and get yerself eaten, and I’ll be next. Oh boy…”

A laugh bubbled up from inside Arthur, hearty and warm. Kieran glanced away, blushing - two parts embarrassment one part fluster.

A few feet away, the ice spread out ahead, some deer grazing on the other side. “That one in the middle,” Kieran indicated a heavy-set buck, “that’ll do?”

“Yeah, that one looks perfect. We just gotta sneak ‘round that side and leave the bait, draw it away from the others.” Arthur’s voice had dropped to a soft murmur that darkened the colour of Kieran’s cheeks even further.

Humming a moment, Kieran gazed at the herd, “Hmm, you sure we couldn’t just get it from ‘cross here? They ain’t seen us, and you got a steady aim, don’tcha?”

“Maybe. It’s pretty closed in by the others - but if it raised its head I reckon I’d have a clean shot.”

All of a sudden Arthur felt Kieran’s hand clutch his shoulder, squeezing. “Alright then. Get ready.”

“Boy, whatchu mean-”

Without further warning, Kieran stuck his fingers in his mouth and let out a shrill whistle that seemed to echo through the entire valley. Arthur stumbled to get his bow out in front of him as the buck’s head snapped upwards, closely followed by the rest of the herd. Before they could turn and flee, Arthur had flipped an arrow across his string and sent it zipping across the lake.

As they carried the buck back to Colter between them, Arthur nagged at Kieran for not giving him a better warning, for such impulsive thinking, but there was fondness and pride in his tone. It was reckless and could have lost the deer, yet they made an excellent team and had their bait.

They left it a ways away from Colter, a couple dozen yards or so, secured tightly to a tree with its belly slit for the scent to carry. As they walked back to Colter, Arthur checked the time - almost six. They’d eat, set up their sleeping space, and squeeze a nap in before the hunt really began.

Kieran offered to get the fire going while Arthur stopped off at the stables to grab their things. Pushing open the stable doors, Arthur was immediately met with both Branwen and Duffy nickering at him for attention - or treats, more likely. He laughed, gave them both an apple, made sure they had plenty of hay (sodden from the damp, but it’d have to do), and began unpacking their saddlebags.

When he shuffled into the room, laden down with supplies, Kieran immediately rushed over to help him carry them. They had picked the schoolhouse that the women and John had been in - it was smaller, but Arthur had found that it held heat a lot better than the shack he’d been in with Hosea and Dutch. The fire was already blazing in the hearth, Kieran had even dragged some extra (freezing) linens from the wardrobe and laid them out before the flames to warm up. Arthur squeezed some cans into the ashes around the blaze, packing them in best he could without burning his fingers. They then busied themselves with spreading out their bedrolls on the floor, side by side.

Once the food was thoroughly cooked, they sat shoulder to shoulder on the bedrolls, swallowing baked beans and cooked vegetables in the chill of the Colter snow. The fire burned pleasantly before them, but the wind still got in through the cracks in the walls and roof. Arthur found himself thinking what a good excuse freezing would be to cuddle even closer to Kieran tonight.

After they’d finished their meal, they got comfortable on the floor of the cabin. Kieran’s back pressed against Arthur’s front, their legs winding together as Arthur’s solid arms found their way around Kieran’s middle. He kissed at the spot where Kieran’s neck met the top of his back - where a vertebra stuck out and made a hard little bump under Arthur’s lips.

Kieran was already drifting off. Arthur smiled into his spine and breathed deep, longing for a longer rest than just a few hours.

Chapter Text

A howl was what woke Arthur. He dragged himself blearily upright, disturbing Kieran who rubbed at his face and mumbled something Arthur didn’t pick up on. Fumbling for the hat he’d set down by the hearth, he shook Kieran a little and let his eyes come into focus. Dark outside - he checked his watch, the sun set probably around an hour or two ago. “C’mon boy, we gotta go check the bait. Keep watch.”

All that he heard in return was more unintelligible grumbling, sounding more irritable than before. Arthur allowed himself a weary smile before getting to his feet and grabbing his rifle. By now Kieran was watching him through droopy eyelids, his face looking loose and grouchy. “Didn’tchu say you didn’t wanna see me get eaten? C’mon, I can’t take this thing down on my own.” Arthur nudged Kieran’s foot with the butt of his gun.

“Fine,” Kieran dragged it out, drawling with a rough twang, “‘S cold down here anyways…”

Together they made their way silently outside, wary of how close the howl had sounded. Then again, sound echoed and carried out here, but they could never be too careful. They headed out to where they’d left the buck, finding a large rock to crouch behind a dozen or so feet away. Still seeing it hanging there (with no tracks around it, at least that Arthur could see from this far away), they resolved to wait it out in the cold.

“You feelin’ any better now?” he whispered, turning to Kieran.

He seemed to catch Kieran stuck in his own thoughts, as he blinked for a few moments before jerking his head up, “Oh? I’m still nervous, yeah.”

“No, don’t mean that part. I gotchu there, don’t worry darlin’. I’m meaning…” he shuffled a little closer, so that their thighs could touch and he could feel Kieran’s hot breath condensing on his cheek. “You still uneasy ‘bout being up here? We- we don’t gotta be, we can ride back down right now. I know a couple cabins further down the mountains, where it ain’t so snowy. Only take an hour to get there, ‘m sure.”

He caught the twitch at the end of Kieran’s lip - the beginnings of a nervous little smile. “No, I-” he seemed to want to say something for a moment, but caught himself. “Actually… I-in truth, I… I was doing fine, I think, it was nice eatin’ up here. But then I- Christ it’s childish. I had a nightmare.”

“That ain’t childish. What’s childish is me forgettin’ all that happened up here and expectin’ you to be okay. You… wanna talk about it?” He found one hand snaking up Kieran’s back, resting there.

Kieran pointedly fixed his gaze above the rock, letting out a stuttery little sigh. “It’s- It’s dumb. Dreamed back when we first met. ‘Cept… you kept- y’kept comin’ into the stable, tauntin’ me, and it was so awful, ‘cause I was so sure that we… well, y’know. Like we are now. But you was so… cold, ‘n’ cruel, Arthur. I know it ain’t real now, but I thought it was. Thought I lost you.”

“Hey…” It killed Arthur to see a watery sheen in Kieran’s eyes; he left his rifle discarded next to him, raising his other hand to cup Kieran’s cheek and run his thumb under his eye. “That ain’t dumb. You ain’t dumb for bein’ scared like that. ‘Specially when we’re up here, brought all those mem’ries back, huh?” His thumb smudged a tear across Kieran’s cheekbone, the hand on his back coming to cradle the back of his partner’s head. “I’m scared like that ev’ry damn day. So scared I’m gonna do the wrong thing, be too much of a damn brute, and send you packin’. It ain’t just you, darlin’, you ain’t bein’ stupid.”

Gently, Arthur pulled Kieran toward him and let him crowd in close, head burying into Arthur’s collar. “I’m sorry ev’ry damn day that we had to have met like that. I’m sorry I was a coward and took so long to stop bein' a pigheaded prick, ‘n’ sorry that I pushed you away. But I’m here now, sweetheart, I ain’t goin' anywhere. I promise, and if you need me to remind you ev’ry mornin’ and ev’ry night, I will.”

“Arthur…” He heard, quiet and choked in his coat’s fabric.

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay, boy. I’m here. You wanna go?”

A few seconds, then Kieran pulled back to look at him. His eyes were still tired-looking, cheeks wet, but he had a sort of lively glint in his pupils and the wrinkles around his eyes. “No- no. I wanna stay. Wanna catch that damn wolf.”

Arthur smiled, soft and proud. “Attaboy. Guess you weren’t lyin’ when you said you ain’t ’s skittish no more.”

“See, I told you! Maybe… maybe that wolf can even be- well, hell, a symbol of getting over this place.”

“Well ain’tchu poetic.” Arthur grinned, mousing his fingers through Kieran’s beard.

They talked for a while longer, in hushed and excited tones, as the moon hung high and stars blinked through the clouds coating the sky. Both of them fell into a sense of quiet, listening to the voices of the wildlife around them and the whistle of the wind through the air. A few times Arthur had to nudge Kieran awake again - Arthur didn’t have so much trouble staying awake, which should have really concerned him more than it did. He pushed the thought of when he’d last had a proper night’s sleep to the back of his mind.

Hours passed - Arthur snorted fully awake as the sky began to lighten ever so slightly. The moon was gone from the sky, having dipped below the mountains around the valley. He shook Kieran awake and turned to kneel up and peer over the rock.

It was there. The wolf was standing proudly by the tree with its snout buried in the deer, ears flicking in contentment. Arthur took his time examining the creature - those drunks were right, it was immense. Not quite as large as a bear, but he thought perhaps the fact that it was resting on its back legs lended to its height. Its coat was grey and brown, collecting in a mane around its neck and great, loose furls around its joints - thick and muscular hind legs that it was leaning forward on, even with shoulders and front legs that looked more human than canine. Furry, no doubt, but- it had hands. Great, padded, clawed hands that could grasp the buck and tear its flesh, while its tail wagged lazily behind it.

“Wh-what the fuck is that?”

Arthur jumped, getting so lost in his own bewilderment that he forgot Kieran was there. Luckily, the wolf hadn’t noticed them yet, still caught up in its meal. Reaching slowly for his rifle, Arthur nodded at Kieran to grab his own. They sized it up - it was distracted, vulnerable. Arthur cocked his gun.

Its ears twitched, head snapping towards them. For a moment, it seemed to look at Arthur - look him directly in the eye. Its head tilted. Blood still coated its muzzle.

Then there was a shot, and it wailed. Arthur realised it wasn’t from his gun. He looked over to see Kieran still aiming, eyes wide and face slowly breaking out in a smile. “I hit it!”

Arthur looked back in time to see the wolf ambling away, limping and whining. Even wounded, it moved fast, but the trail of blood in the snow would lead them right to it. “Yeah, you did. Good job, now let’s git after it.”

Slinging his rifle over his back, Arthur hopped the rock and took off in the direction of the blood. The sky was lightening, he could see, the sun no doubt hidden just below the mountains. He could hear Kieran crunching through the snow just behind him, fixated on the trail. It took them further away from Colter, down towards the lake, until they spotted a figure slumped in the snow. Arthur didn’t have time to think about how there was considerably less fur until he was within a few metres of it.

There was no wolf to be seen. Just you, struggling to get up, ass-naked in the snow. He felt his face heat up, knowing Kieran’s would be doing just the same.

You were facing away from them, legs tightly folded towards you as you struggled to put your weight on one. Your hair falling in your face, you heaved and writhed in the snow, panic shooting through you. From where he was standing, Arthur could see the skin on the bottom of your feet, where it seemed to darken and form sort of pads. Your toes were clawed, he noted.

And you had a tail. Long and grey-brown, beating against the snow.

“Hey, stranger, are you-”

Whipping around, you cut him off with a sudden and guttural snarl. Arthur stepped back, alarmed, as he took in yellowish eyes, pointed teeth, and large and fuzzy grey ears that pinned back against your head like a stressed horse. The blood on your teeth and around your mouth. Within seconds though, you flinched back, crawling away and trying in vain to cover yourself with one arm while you dragged with the other.

Arthur saw the issue - you had a bulletwound in your thigh.

“Hey, calm down, it’s alright. C’mon, we’ll getchu outta here, you’ll catch yer death.”

You didn’t know these men, you didn’t know where you were, or why your leg was in pain - you needed to get away from them, the way they were leering over you, God, it was so fucking cold. Every attempt you made to scramble up and away was foiled by the violent trembling of your arms or the pain that ripped through your leg when you tried to bend it. They were going to kill you, weren’t they?

Already undoing his coat, Arthur kept an eye on your shivering form - the clawed hands with the same strange and calloused pads as the feet (also coated with blood), the tail now tucking between your legs, the terrified expression on your face.

“Please- please don’t hurt me, I-”

“We ain’t gonna hurt you, stranger. There’s an old minin’ town near here, we’ll take you there, getchu settled.” The other one, the thinner one, was kneeling down towards you, holding out his hand. You growled again, but it wheedled off into a whine. You had no chance of getting to your cabin in the state you were in. You’d keel over and die long before that.

Now it was the gruff one’s turn to crouch next to you, opening up his coat to set around your shoulders. “C’mon, you’ll either freeze out here or that wound’ll get infected. We can help.”

Slowly, hesitantly, you allowed yourself to be helped up, the coat buttoned up. Your arms slung over the men’s shoulders as they guided you back up the path towards Colter. It was slow-going, you limping the whole way and almost dragging them down in the snow on several occasions. Eventually, there Colter appeared, looking like an oasis in a desert. They weren’t lying. But it might be a trap.

They helped you back towards the room their bedrolls were in. The thin one broke off from you and the other one to bolt the door behind you all and drag the camp bed in the corner over closer to the fire. Together, they lowered you down onto the bed. “That wardrobe you found the linens in - check if there’s any old clothes for our friend.”

While Thin searched through the wardrobe, Gruff crouched down by you, still trembling where you lay, one leg crossed over the other. You felt disgustingly exposed, but surprisingly he didn’t so much as glance at anywhere but your face. Instead he pulled his first aid things from his satchel, setting down a health tonic by his leg. Taking a breath, he passed a piece of thick leather to you. “Bite on that. It’ll help.”

You whimpered.

Some excruciating minutes later, the bullet was out, the leg bandaged, and Gruff was passing you the tonic. You drank with some disgust, hissing at the taste and the way it caught in your throat but swallowing it all. “Good job, you did good.”

Thin returned with a large, moth-bitten white overshirt and some brown workpants. You got the shirt on fine yourself, but after floundering for a few moments on your own, Gruff helped you into the pants and back down onto the bed. They took one of the linens from the floor and tucked you in, your eyelids beginning to feel heavy.

While they still had you conscious, Gruff took the chance, “I’m Arthur, this is Kieran. And who’d you be?”

You blinked for a few moments. You didn’t feel entirely there. After a second, your eyes slipped shut and you mumbled out your name.

“Howdy, then. You get some rest now, let that leg heal up.”

Arthur and Kieran shared a look.

When they were sure you were out cold, the two sat down before the all but dead fire and tried to get their bearings. The sun was rising now, the day beginning, but both of them were sleep-deprived and struggling to comprehend what they’d seen.

“That… that weren’t just me, right? You saw it too?” Kieran’s voice was quiet, raw.

“If- if yer meanin’ the wolf, then. Yeah. Was definitely a wolf, and then..”

Their hands found each others. “And then it wasn’t.”

The silence stretched out between them, the only sounds the wind rattling around the doorframe and your laboured breathing next to them. Arthur felt Kieran’s hand shaking in his.

“They was a wolf when you shot them. You didn’t know-”

“We should get this fire goin’,” Kieran pulled away from him and stood, shoulders tight, “We promised they wouldn’t freeze.”

After a moment, watching Kieran’s guarded face, Arthur nodded. “Alright.” Together they built the fire up until it was crackling heartily, then slumped back down in front of it with aching bones. Arthur once again took Kieran’s hand in his, now tugging it into his lap and running his fingers over it, feeling the taut skin and swollen knuckles.

“Hosea used to tell me stories ‘bout… men who could turn into beasts, roamed through the woods and ate anyone who got lost. But when I got older I just figured they was old tales to keep kids from wanderin’ off at night.”

Leaning against his shoulder, Kieran nodded, whispering, “My Mammy and Pappy taught me old stories from back in Ireland, the legends. One of ‘em were called the Werewolves of Ossory,” Kieran’s unfortunately American drawl took away any mystique that could have come from the ancient name, “Said they were a gang of men who’d wear wolfskins and kill livestock, ‘cept some folk would swear they weren’t just wearin’ skins. They’d say they wore the wolves themselves, changed themselves and their bodies. Just ancient stories, but… I dunno. What we seen definitely ain’t just a story.”

“You got that right.” Arthur looked over to where you were sleeping, examined your features. Now that you were still, Arthur could gaze at your face properly, noting your creased brow even in sleep.

For another short while they sat in silence, gathering their thoughts. Eventually, when Arthur’s watch read seven o’ clock, Kieran saw it fit to go check on the horses. Arthur watched him go for a moment, sighing out of his nose. A few minutes later, he stood and dragged a chair over to where you were resting. His coat had been abandoned on the floor once they’d gotten you into  your new clothes, so he hauled it back on and settled down on the chair. Some journaling to pass the time.

He flipped to his recent page, seeing a passage about the wolf story on the page before, and put a pencil to paper.

Kieran and I did end up coming up to Colter. I was an idiot as usual and managed to astoundingly forget what he endured up here, but he insists that he is fine and that being here will do him some good. I am skeptical, however I have never been one to question others that often. The wolf we were hunting turned out not to be a wolf at all - we have met a person up here, but I am not so sure they’re a person more than they are a beast. We’ve exchanged only a couple of words before they passed out - shock, I guess - and haven’t gotten much out of them past their name.

He noted it down, in block capitals. Thoughtfully, he underlined it.

I am looking forward to hearing their story.

His writings took up a whole page, so he turned over and hesitated for a moment. Eyes skipping over to your face, Arthur slowly traced the soft line of your jaw onto the parchment. That trailed up to a rough outline of your velvety-looking ears, then your brow and nose with careful strokes. Arthur flicked his wrist to capture the way your hair fell, sketched delicately your tense expression, your eyelashes and your lips. The blood still encrusted around your mouth.

You were quite attractive, Arthur found himself thinking. And then he was blushing, and snapping his journal closed. No need to be having those thoughts about someone they’d shot in the leg only an hour previous. He massaged the bridge of his nose. And despite it all, he found himself watching tenderly as you mumbled distressedly in your sleep and turned over, pulling the blanket up to expose your back. With carefulness he wasn’t used to, Arthur tugged it back down and tucked it around your slumbering form.

It was about that point that Kieran returned, saying that the horses were doing about as alright as could be expected up here. “Bad news, though.”

Arthur turned, raising an eyebrow.

“There’s a snowstorm comin’ in. So unless we pack up right now ‘n’ book it before it blows in, we’re gonna be stuck up here for a couple of days.”

“And we can’t leave right now ‘cause we don’t know what’s what with them.” Arthur finished what he knew Kieran was thinking with a heavy sigh. He got a sheepish nod in return. “Well it’s a good thing you made sure we overpacked on food, then.”

The rest of the day was spent drifting in and out of sleep - keeping the fire fed, taking the horses out to stretch their legs, salvaging the deer they’d left out for you. They found you’d gone for the organs, leaving almost the entirety of the meat on the body, which was useful. After a lunch of venison, they curled up once again before the hearth. Arthur found himself looking over at your discontented face as he fell back into the clutches of rest.

Chapter Text

A few hours after sunset, Kieran was out settling the horses and Arthur was stoking the fire. He heard a sharp breath to his side, and glanced over to see your eyes wide open and staring at him in fright. Arthur blinked, admiring for a moment how easily he could see the yellow tint to your scleras. Looking closer, he noticed that your pupils were slits - narrow and hostile.

After a few seconds, Arthur realised he’d been staring blankly, and coughed into his hand. “Evenin’.” He shuffled a little closer, making note of the low growl reverberating through you, the way your upper lip slowly drew back to show off your fangs. “You remember what happened?”

There was no reply, just a continued surliness and snapping of teeth. Maybe you could fool him into thinking you were at all a threat.

“Hey, c’mon now. I ain’t gonna hurtcha. You remember who I am?”

No use. He was kind, although you were still wary. He spoke to you softly, like you were just a feral dog needing a little bit of love. Lip sliding back down over your teeth, you regarded him hesitantly and nodded. “A-Arthur.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” He tacked on your name too, face open and warm.

Another nod. Your hackles lowered, the growl ceasing. He seemed alright, for the moment. You sunk back into the bed.

“You… shot me, right?”

An embarrassed flush coloured Arthur’s cheeks, but he nodded reluctantly and moved to the chair by your bed. “Yeah, uh, yeah we did. Real sorry about that, we- uh, we got told there was a big wolf ready for huntin’, we didn’t know that, uh-”

“S’all right.” You cut him off. So that was why. A gentle smile twisted the corners of your mouth, a snicker almost slipping out; you knew someone was bound to hear about the big bad wolf in the snow eventually and come up here thinking they could take you. “I know you didn’t know. I’m lucky you were the first, honestly.”

“That right?”

Whatever you were about to say was drowned out by the roaring of the wind as the door behind you two burst open. It closed just as quickly, Kieran huffing and puffing as he bolted it and blew into his hands.

“They doin’ alright?” Arthur called to him, turning away from you.

Kieran hurried over, rubbing his hands together. “They ain’t starving, but they’re gonna need a lot of TLC when we get back. They’re pissed we brought them up in the cold, heh. But we still got enough food to last until…”

He trailed off as he saw you gazing up at him, studying him with an open face.

“Oh, th-they’re- they’re awake, then?”

“Yeah,” Arthur turned back around to look down at you, “Woke up just now, actually.”

“Hiya.” you offered with a wary smile.

“Um, howdy!” Kieran returned.

You fell into an awkward silence after that. You buried into your sheets, teeth chattering a little. You appreciated them finding you clothes, but a shirt and pants weren’t exactly Winter-wear.

“I’ll get the fire goin’ again,” Arthur didn’t so much offer as told you, as he stood and chucked some more wood on the flames. He built it high and roasting, and together they shifted your bed closer.

Kieran and Arthur took their usual seat in front of the fireplace, piling some cans into the hearth to cook. “You must be hungry, huh? You been asleep the whole day.” Arthur turned to you.

“I’m not that hungry, really, but it wouldn’t hurt.” You didn’t remember anything after you turned, but by the full belly feeling you’d guess you had something between now and yesterday evening.

Seeing Kieran’s expression out of the corner of his eye, Arthur found they both had the same line of questioning on their lips. He nodded at Kieran, discreetly. Kieran’s knuckles cracked.

“What… are you? If- if you don’t mind me askin’, only.” The words tumbled clumsily from Kieran’s mouth, and your fuzzy ears pricked up. You turned over onto your side as to easily talk to them, with a weary looking smile on your face. It was bound to come up sooner rather than later.

“It’s fine, you were gonna ask eventually, I know.” An ear twitched where a strand of your hair irritated it; Arthur had a sudden and obtrusive urge to brush it away from your face. “I think I’m a werewolf, that’s- that’s the best word for it, I guess. The traditional story, at least where I’m from - I got bit by a strange-looking wolf, and then I grew fur and started having blackouts during full moons.”

The flames crackled. Kieran’s hand slipped into Arthur’s. “That was a year ago, and after I realised what was happening I- I moved myself into a cabin up here so I wouldn’t be around people when it happened. I didn’t- I don’t want to hurt anyone. That’s why I’m up here.”

Nodding, Arthur watched the anxious expression on your face. “And we were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

A hoarse little chuckle, “Well, in your case, the right place at the right time. You came up here hunting, right?”

“We weren’t plannin’ on huntin’ half-human.” Kieran’s voice walked the line between humour and sincerity. You nodded in reassurance. You could imagine the guilt he was feeling, and you didn’t blame him one bit. You knew you looked frankly terrifying around this time of the month.

A look of sudden recognition appeared on Arthur’s face, “Ah, we ain’t told you - snowstorm’s just blown in while you were out. We’re gonna be stuck up here for a couple’a days at the least.”

“O-oh,” you blinked, your expression then easing itself into a more lighthearted one, “Well, that’s not so bad. Could be stuck with worse folks, huh? Not like I could really take care of myself that well anyway…”

Uneasy chuckling spread between you three.

Judging the food as just about done, Arthur asked Kieran to take it out as he moved to help you sit upright. You laughed, trying to brush Arthur off - “It’s just my leg, mister, I can handle myself.” - yet allowed him to ease you up and let his hand hover for a moment too long. You didn’t notice Arthur snatching his hand away like he’d been burned.

You ate and fell into surprisingly easy conversation. They learnt more about you - you told them where you were from, how you used to earn your money until the wolf bite. They seemed genuinely interested, which flattered you.

Sharing their own stories in return, Arthur and Kieran leaned back against each other. They should have been being more careful, they didn’t really know you after all. However they had come up here to have some time alone, and were both reluctant to hide their affections like they usually did. You didn’t seem to pick up on it - and if you did, you didn’t let it show.

When the moon reached its peak, the three of you decided it was about time to try to amend your sleep schedule. They helped you back under your sheets, wished you a good rest and made sure the fire was blazing. Then it was back onto their rolls and each other’s arms.

Chapter Text

The next morning, you talked for a while longer and ate breakfast, before Arthur decided to go out hunting in the storm for something more appetising. Skeptical, Kieran badgered him to be careful and come back as soon as possible. They didn’t kiss, not while you were there, which seized Kieran’s heart but he let it pass. At least he had Arthur’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing in comfort, and the soft and reassuring look in his eye before he closed the schoolhouse door behind him.

Worrying his lip between his teeth as he often did, Kieran paced for a moment or two, unsure of what to do with himself. They were stuck up here until the storm passed after all, so there was nothing much to do. Glancing over like he had just remembered you existed, Kieran’s eyes settled on you - you were now sat up with your head tilted ever so slightly. It looked familiar - the same look the wolf had given Arthur before Kieran shot it. Guilt settled into his bones.

You watched him, considering something. The way he and Arthur acted around each other, the softness that was rarely ever shared between men… And although you faced away from them when you slept, you didn’t miss that they slept in the same place, catching a glimpse of Kieran tucking his head under Arthur’s chin before you had turned over.

Slowly, like you would pounce on him at any sudden movements, Kieran wandered over and settled down in the chair next to the camp-bed. He felt stiff, hyper-aware of his gangly stance, feeling too big in the seat. You were looking at him curiously, but there was a guarded look about you. Kieran swallowed.

“Can.. can I ask you something? Since you got to ask me about the werewolf thing.” Your ears were twitching again, pricking up and then laying flat, like you were hesitant. It was rather charming, if absurd.

Fingers balling in the fabric of his coat, the stableboy nodded. “Sure, friend.”

Cogs whirred behind your contracting pupils; Kieran noticed little freckles across your nose. You were considering, toying with the sheets over your legs as you thought over the question buzzing around your head. Anxiety built inside Kieran as he waited - partly because the silence was giving him an opportunity to admire your features, and he was feeling a solid blush beginning to coat his face.

“You and Arthur…” You began, soft, nervous. Kieran could taste the question in the air before it even left your mouth. “Are you- um…” Now you could feel yourself blushing as well, but your face twisted into a grimace of fear. You shouldn’t have said anything. What were you thinking? Kieran let you continue, just on the chance that perhaps you weren’t saying what Kieran thought you were saying - no sense in outing them without reason.

“You- you two… Are you-” Unable to find the words, you simply made a sort of gesture with your hands. A shaking, a clasping together, a terrified promise given to Kieran under the pretense that maybe you were wrong, maybe they’d throw you out in the snow for suggesting it.

Immediately, Kieran nodded. His hands jumped to yours, holding tight, and you looked at each other. Shared a secret little agreement between you, a quiet understanding. There was excitement in your blown pupils.

“You’re… Wow.. How long have you two…?”

Sitting back, Kieran smiled, indulging your questions. “A few months now. The folks we go ‘round with don’t seem to mind, but we ain’t loud about it either.” 

You nodded, a dumb little smile on your face.

“Actually, that’s… kinda the whole reason Arthur brought us up here. Wanted some alone time, ‘cause it ain’t like anyone’d find us up in the middle’a nowhere.”

A blush coloured your cheeks once again. “Ah, I guess I… kinda messed that one up a little, didn’t I? I-I’m sorry there.” You just had to ruin everything, didn’t you.

“It’s alright,” Kieran chuckled, “I’m glad we met you anyway, myself.”

The ears once again rose. “Oh, r-really?”

Cute. They look cute. Kieran quashed the thought. “Yeah, really. You’re nice, and I-I think you needed someone to talk to. It must be lonely up here, huh?”

“Y-yeah. It is.”

You wanted to tell him, about the nights you had spent alone up here, nights upon nights huddled under countless animal skins. Nights spent with a hollowness in your chest, missing everyone, missing being able to go outside and see other people, and knowing you wouldn’t hurt them. Nights spent crying, your only companion the chill rattling through the cracks in the windows and through the doorframe, the crushing loneliness. You didn’t tell him, though. This wasn’t about you.

It was about him and Arthur. It wasn’t about you.

Silence fell between you again for a moment. Something thick hung in the air, redness in both your cheeks. For just a second, you allowed yourself to take in Kieran - not the typical attractive cowboy type by any means, but his hesitance and softness made your heart squeeze something awful. Eventually he broke the quiet, pulling away when the tension became too much and offering you some hard candy he fished out of Arthur’s satchel. You took a piece, laughing softly at his uncertain-looking grin.

Until Arthur got back, you swapped stories and quiet promises. Something crackled around you, which Kieran avoided solemnly. He told you the wolf legends of Ireland, which you listened to in awe and gave a giddy chuckle at. You told him about your childhood. At some point, Kieran brought a small bottle of gin out and you drank together.

Arthur returned with another deer, skinned it outside and brought the spoils in to deposit in the fire. They moved you down to the floor to sit with them upon your request, and you shared the gin with Arthur as well. Kieran, in hushed tones, shared also what he had confessed to you and watched with satisfaction the way Arthur’s eyebrows shot up and the gin went sideways down his gullet. You stifled a laugh.

“Well, guess y’know now, huh?” Arthur chuckled. He ignored the way his heart pounded faster, singing with hope. You didn’t run, then. Catching Kieran’s eye, shock passed through him as he saw his exact expression mirrored on his lover’s face. A silent understanding passed through them; they’d have to discuss it more later.

That night, you drank and feasted on venison and mint while the snowstorm battered at the schoolhouse walls. You were quite an excitable and bashful drunk, a blush always in your face and a laugh ripping out of you at the littlest thing. Your merriment was contagious, and Kieran found himself mimicking the way you flapped your arms about in pure joy. At one point, you and him even stood and began dancing - albeit messy, raucous dancing with much tripping and broken voices. Arthur stayed seated next to the fire, bellowing a campfire song into the heavy air.

Soon the singing died down, the three of you falling over each other in front of the fire. Kieran found himself mesmerised by the lump rapidly moving inside your trouser leg - trying to sway but strangled by the fabric. “Hey, hey, wha’s that?”

Twisting around to look at him, a perplexed look crossed your face - “What? What’re you meaning?”

“It’s their tail, darlin’! S’all trapped-” Arthur blurted through wheezing laughter, before crawling over and unsheathing his knife. “Here, here, hold still, I’ll help.”

“Hey, hey, keep that knife away from my ass!” you protested, wiggling about as Arthur hauled you down to the floor and drunkenly instructed Kieran to keep you pinned and settled. You squealed indignantly, clawing at the ground but finding no purchase.

As careful as he could be with a system full of gin and snake oil, Arthur dug the tip of his blade into the fabric over your tailbone, tearing open a sloppy little hole and earning him a squawk of retaliation. With you still squirming beneath him, Arthur eased your tail through the hole and gave a satisfied hum at the way it beat back and forth freely.

“Sorry ‘bout that… But I bet it feels better now, huh?” Arthur slurred, grinning at your silly little tipsy pout when he helped you back upright.

With a stubborn tilt, you nodded jauntily and soon broke out into giggles again. You couldn’t stay mad at them. Kieran, sitting behind you, watched intently the way your scraggly tail flipped side to side and reached out to run his crooked fingers through the fur. Alarm shocked through your system for a moment, before you leaned back against Kieran, continuing to giggle and whine in your throat. The wind outside was screaming against the sodden wood of the cabin.

Eventually, you three fell into various sleepy dazes, and after getting you settled once again, Arthur and Kieran collapsed on top of one another and were out within minutes.

What was most likely many hours later, Arthur was woken rather rudely. He couldn’t immediately tell what had woken him - Kieran was laying across from him, still sound asleep. Thinking it might have been the wind, Arthur closed his eyes again and tried to find wherever his rest had gotten to.

Then he heard it again - sniffling in the dark.

Carefully, as to not wake Kieran, Arthur sat up and squinted towards you on the bed. The fire had died down to a couple of smouldering logs, leaving you a bunched up mass in the shadows. But Arthur could tell from where he was sat that your shoulders were shaking - your entire body shivering, in fact. Dragging himself up to his feet and stepping over Kieran’s slumbering form, Arthur quietly toed his way over to you.

He knelt, reaching a hand out to gently nudge your shoulder. Immediately, you stiffened, the crying halting and superficial silence replacing it. You held your breath.

“You okay?” Arthur murmured to the body facing away from him, rigid as ice. Feeling just about as cold as well.

The silence dragged on for a few seconds longer, before a raw whisper, “I’m fine.”

“Forgive me, but you ain’t seem fine.”

The emptiness turned soft, upset, and Arthur felt under his hand the muffled sobs starting up again. “C’mon, what’sa matter? You’re okay, I won’t laugh if y’think it’s dumb.”

“Just…” A choke in your throat, wet. “Just a nightmare. That’s all.”

Arthur’s hand squeezed a little, trying his best to be comforting, “Hey, we all get nightmares, s’alright. You wanna talk about it?”

With a sigh, you turned over to face Arthur. You knew you couldn’t tell him. “No, no, it’s- I’m fine. I have them s-sometimes.”

Nodding, Arthur took his hand away and cracked a knuckle. He heard Kieran stir behind him, a hazy mumble, “Wha’s goin’ on?”

“Nothin’, darlin’.” Arthur looked down at you, your wet cheeks and shivering body. You curled up tighter, wanting to hide away from him, where he couldn’t see you and your shameful crying. “You cold up here? Yer not as close to the fire as we are.”

“No, I’m f-”

“How ‘bout you come sleep down here with us for tonight, alright? Bet that’ll calm you down a little. C’mon now,” Already bringing you upright with him as he stood, Arthur ignored your bashful protests. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind and Kieran don’t neither. We don’t wantchu freezin’ to death.”

Kieran was halfway awake now, sitting up and watching blearily as Arthur eased you down next to him. Rebuilding the fire, Arthur made sure it was burning comfortably before collecting the linens from the camp-bed and throwing them over the two of you on the floor. Laying down once again on the other side of you, Arthur moved in, close but hesitant. After a few moments of embarrassment and fluster, you shuffled until your head was resting comfortably under Arthur’s chin. Kieran hugged tight to your back, giving Arthur a restless look before closing his eyes and dropping back off.

What was he getting himself into?

Chapter Text

They let you sleep soundly as each got up to tend to their morning duties - Kieran to the horses and Arthur with breakfast. Once again Arthur found himself watching your dozing form, the way your ears twitched in rest, the hair in your face, the sleepy glow about your cheeks. He managed almost to burn breakfast, that lost in thought.

Once Kieran shouldered back inside, Arthur gently woke you and sleepily - and with pounding headaches, if the way you and Kieran were wincing was any indicator - you all tucked into breakfast.

“Storm seems lighter’n yesterday,” Kieran mentioned through a mouthful of beans, “Probably be out of here in a day or two.”

“Good.” was your reply, almost too quickly, and you blushed deeply, “N-not that I don’t appreciate what you two have done for me, I just want to be out of your hair-”

Patting you gently on the shoulder, Arthur finished up the last of his meal. “Relax, we didn’t take it like that.” You flinched at the touch, hanging your head.

He had a question on his tongue, but swallowed it down. Where are you actually staying, is it safe? Are you lonely? It was none of his business.

After breakfast, Kieran quickly stood (with an audible hissing through his teeth at the pain in his head) and rushed back towards the door. “Here, hold on, I found somethin’.” Your eyes followed him, curious.

“Oh yeah?” Arthur was helping you back up to sit on the camp bed, but now turned to look.

Kieran was presenting a long branch, that conveniently parted into a Y shape at the top. “A crutch?” you tilted your head, reaching out hesitantly for it.

Passing it over, Kieran watched waveringly as you hauled yourself up to your feet, resting heavily on it. It wasn’t perfect - it was slightly too long, meaning you had to lean up to get the fork under your arm - but you tried a couple of hobbling steps with it and found it worked pretty well.

On and off for the rest of the morning, you wandered in circles, trying to get used to the crutch and to walking on your shot leg. It was definitely slow-going. There were a lot of stumbles, a few falls, and one moment that Arthur had been mulling over in the back of his mind for the past hour.

You had been on your circuit for a while, treading slow and careful. More intently than he’d care to admit, Arthur had been watching you, ready to dive forward if you stepped offkilter.

That very thing happened, and Arthur lunged forward in time to hook an arm under your shoulders and keep you from hitting the ground. This, however, left you in quite an awkward position for a number of seconds - with Arthur hoisting you in an almost ballroom-style dip, you two holding each other’s startled gazes with flushed cheeks.

This allowed you to take in Arthur, helpless in his arms. His blue eyes, the faint creases around them, the freckles and pockmarks over his nose and cheeks, the scar on his chin that left a slashed bald spot in his beard. Handsome, so unbelievably handsome and gentle as he held you.

You were both brought out of the daze by Kieran’s snorting - he was sat on the camp bed, snickering unattractively into his hand. Quickly afterwards, Arthur brought you upright, murmured some kind of formality, coughed into his hand and headed out to “check on the horses”. You were left frazzled, slumped on your crutch, red-faced and bewildered. Kieran looked at you rather knowingly, but you were too caught up in processing what just happened to notice.

The rest of the day was uneventful, but filled with a thick tension that pressed around you three tightly. Arthur never seemed to recover from the slip up that morning, being lost in his thoughts and resorting to his journal for a while. You similarly found yourself twisted up in confused fantasies - the way he had lunged out to scoop you up, the security of his hold, but equally Kieran’s arms around you last night. You tried your best to bury the feelings.

Sometime after lunch, you asked if you could go out to see the horses, but both Arthur and Kieran were skeptical about you going out in the snow in your condition. You argued your point relentlessly, going crazy being cooped up inside, until eventually Arthur bundled you into his coat and allowed Kieran to help you to the stables.

The slitted pupils in your eyes went wide on seeing the horses, your tail wagging instantly. You cooed over them, rubbing your oddly padded hands over their soft necks and noses. “What’re they called?”

“The white one’s Branwen, he’s mine, and the grey dapple is Duffy.”

“Branwen and Duffy…” you mumbled as you ran your fingers through Branwen’s slightly dishevelled mane.

Watching the light in your eyes with a soft feeling in his chest, Kieran nodded, “Funny story, actually. Duffy’s named after me - Kieran Duffy. Arthur thought’d be cute, says he looks like me.”

“Really? Well, he sort of does.” you gave a little laugh, hoarse and not all that attractive but it lit up Kieran’s face. “Grey coat and everything.”

As he fed Duffy an oatcake, Kieran asked, “D’you have a horse waitin’ for you?”

“Yeah. Back at my cabin.”

Raising his eyebrows in quiet surprise, Kieran crossed over the front of Duffy to stand at the other side of Branwen. “You think it’s doin’ alright? Y’been gone a couple days now.”

A little chuckle left you, the edges of your eyes creasing, “Oh, yeah, she’ll be fine. She was wild before I broke her in, she’s used to living on her own up here.” That makes two of you. “Knowing her, she will’ve chewed through her bridle and took off halfway across the Grizzlies by now.”

“That’s a relief, at least,” Kieran chuckled back, “What breed is she?”

“Ah, I’ve never been good at telling them apart, so I couldn’t tell you. She’s white, and fast, and she’s got a feisty attitude but she’s a softie, really. Name’s Darling.” Readjusting on your crutch, your face took on a distant, fond look as you stroked over the dip of Branwen’s back.

The expression mirrored itself onto Kieran’s face. He was reminded of when he first met Branwen. His first job after being “recruited” by the O’Driscolls was to prove himself by bringing a sickly, beaten horse back from the edge of death. The horse was his lifeline; if he didn’t successfully save it, he would be pronounced incompetent and shot (or something worse, most likely). In a similar way, he was Branwen’s only chance, as well. Even after he nursed the horse back to a physically healthy state, he continued to work with him, in between the brushing, the hoof-picking, the shoe-ing and the mucking. Branwen became Kieran’s project, his one joy, as he suffered the berating and torment of his new gang. At the end of every day, Kieran knew he could return to the stable, to that horse that just like him had been neglected and abused, and help him learn to trust again. The day when Branwen had finally nosed Kieran’s hand and kept it there, antsy but unbiting, Kieran damn near shrieked with joy.

He stroked Branwen’s ears, gentle, listening to the calm and heavy breaths his horse took.

“You said you’ve been a stableboy your whole life? That must be nice.”

Startled, Kieran realised he’d been silent for a while, reminiscing, “O-only if you don’t mind smellin’ of horse and everything that comes with horse. But yeah, it’s tough work, but I-I like workin’ with ‘em. Like knowin’ everythin’ there is to know about ‘em. Love their personalities too.”

“Bit temperamental, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” Kieran gave the other oatcake to Branwen, halting his nickering, “Branwen and Duffy, they’re both kinda soft, but Branwen’s got a stubborn side. Easy to frighten, though. There’s a guy back at camp, Bill, got a big workhorse, and the thing’s just’s mean as he is. Pretty, b-but mean as they come. Bit me once when I tried pickin’ its hooves.”

Stroking Branwen’s flank, you laughed, “I don’t think Darling’s mean, but I’ve got bit a fair amount.”

“Yeah, Branwen don’t bite anymore, but I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Suddenly you felt much more apprehensive about your fingers scratching over Branwen’s jaw.

You stayed in heavy silence for a while as you pet the horses and Kieran checked over their food again. Eventually, you broke the quiet, something biting at you painfully.

“Earlier, with Arthur, I’m not- I wouldn’t try that, I’m not trying to get in between you too, honest, I didn’t-”

“N-no, no! It’s okay, I didn’t think that. I trust you.” Kieran stepped closer, hands outstretched, perhaps out of the instinct to calm a spooked horse. “Arthur’s just a carin’ man - last night as well, he just wants you to recover alright. I trust him, an’ I trust you.”

Relief seeped out of your expression, your ears falling with the release of tension. You’d been worrying about it since you realised they were together, and still the fear didn’t fully leave you. “Oh thank God, I thought I was a homewrecker or something.”

Kieran ignored the tiny pang he felt in his chest, pushing it aside. He uneasily chuckled, “No, no, don’t worry.”

You stood then, close, Kieran realising his hand was clutching your shoulder comfortingly. You blinked at each other, something buzzing in the air.

“Sh-should we head back inside, then?” Kieran withdrew his hand, tucking his fingers in and amongst Branwen’s mane.

“Let’s. I’m freezing.”

That night, you were much quieter and seemingly distant than you’d been the previous. You ate in more or less silence, having delayed responses to any questions and gazing forwards absently. Hot worry writhed in Arthur’s gut - about earlier, mostly.

Eventually he got the conviction to ask where you lived, and received an airy “Cabin nearby, Dormin Crest.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah. Hunt things around for food. It’s quiet, but it’s okay.” Embers danced in the yellow reflections of your eyes. You liked the fire.

Past that, the conversation didn’t turn out much of worth. Kieran packed away your meal, and you began attempting to hustle your linens back to the camp bed.

“Hey, ‘s’alright. Y’can sleep down here again with us, it’s probably freezin’ up there, huh?” Arthur rushed out as he halted your struggles and lowered the sheets back to the floor.

A deep redness was already inching its way across your face, as you hurriedly snatched the bedding back up, “No, no, it’s- I don’t want to get in your way, it’s fine, I can sleep up here. I’ll manage.”

“You ain’t gettin’ in the way.” Arthur pointedly said as he firmly took the linens back, “It’d be more trouble anyway if y’got sick from the cold.”

“He’s got a point,” Kieran finally spoke up, “I-I don’t mind neither.”

A look of confliction fluttered about on your face, your ears folding flat again in stress. “I…”

“Now c’mon, what’sa matter. What’s changed since last night?” Arthur’s tone went softer.

Kieran watched you carefully, the way your hands were beginning to flit up and down, grasping at your shirt and your hair. “Is this… Is this about whatchu mentioned in the barn?”

Going instantly mortified, you stuttered out something barely legible at the two men. Your head was twitching, the words struggling to get past your teeth.

“What did they mention? Is somethin’ wrong?” Despite your twittering protests, Arthur eased you down to sit on the camp-bed again, wavering on Kieran’s words. You were making grunting noises, grinding your teeth and pulling your hair. You couldn’t get out what you wanted to say. “Hey, hey, c’mon, don’t hurt yerself,” Arthur’s big hands came up to tug your arms away, “Pull somethin’ else - my collar okay? Go on, ‘s fine.”

While you wordlessly kneaded Arthur’s coat collar, Kieran looked on in bewilderment and hesitance on whether he should continue. “C-can I tell him?”

After a couple of moments, a jerky nod was given.

“They’re feelin’ like they’re gettin’ inbetween us - I told them they ain’t, but I guess they’re still worried.”

“Gettin’ inbetween us like…” Arthur knew full well what Kieran meant, but looked back over to find it confirmed in your restless, blushing face. He felt sick at how excited he felt, but he couldn’t come out and say it, he had to talk with Kieran first. And he didn’t think you were in any state to be left on your own right now. “Ah.”

The humming in the back of your throat got louder, more choked.

“You don’t gotta worry, alright. Kieran ‘n’ me are still just the same we was when we came up here, you ain’t breakin’ us apart or somethin’. We’re askin’ you of our own free choice to sleep down here with us, so you don’t freeze. Alright? Now c’mon, let’s settle down.”

With some more gentle coaxing, they eventually had a sleepy ball of you huddled tight inbetween them, falling quickly into a doze. They carried out their usual nightly routine, exhaustion beginning to peak.

Across the top of your head, Arthur met eyes with Kieran. The stableboy gave him a meaningful look, then whispered, “We’ll talk in the mornin’, alright Morgan?”

Arthur nodded a little, touched his hand to the other’s cheek, and was out like a light. He remembered waking again, later on, to more of your muffled crying. Taking you into his arms despite your protests, Arthur murmured sleepy, comforting words, his voice rumbling through his chest and his throat. Kieran, after a moment, stirred as well and shifted closer, pressed to your back and looping an arm around your middle. He whispered similar reassurances, and your whimpers subsided and quiet snores took their place.

Chapter Text

Kieran was right about the storm. The next day, the snow was definitely easing off - not enough to travel back that day, but it meant you could leave soon.

When Arthur awoke, he found Kieran already stoking the fire and readying himself to go out to the stables. He tried to sit up to head after him, but quickly found that his legs were tangled with something and there was another body weighing him down. Carefully, gently, Arthur eased his legs out from their knot with yours and edged you off of him, making sure to bunch the sheets tightly around you to keep you warm without Arthur and Kieran’s body heat.

Once he was sure you wouldn’t wake easy, Arthur stood and nodded to Kieran, who opened the door and wandered out. Arthur followed, crunching through the thinning snow to the stable doors and slightly worrying over you being left alone.

They entered together, in tense silence, Kieran instantly heading to Branwen with a brush. Arthur leaned against the pole he belatedly remembered was Kieran’s place of captivity. He not-so-subtly slipped away from it and moved instead to feed Duffy.

“You like them?”

Over Duffy’s back, Arthur met Kieran’s eyes. Kieran didn’t look sad, he held Arthur’s gaze with simple curiosity and a dash of hope.

“Yeah,” Arthur said, finally, “I-I do.”

“Like- like like like them-” Arthur let out a barkish laugh at such a childish expression coming from Kieran, but then again, this was the man who still called his parents “Mammy and Pappy”.

“Yes, you fool, I like like them.”

“G-good.” Hiding his expression with Branwen’s mane, Kieran nodded, “‘Cause I do too.”

They both let it stay between them for a moment, the confession finally weaving through the air.

Eventually, Arthur murmured, “What’re we gonna do about it then?”

“I’m… not sure. I-I don’t think we can just… leave them here or wherever they’re stayin’ when we go. They can’t take care of themself right now-”

“I’m with you. But, puttin’ the other thing aside, we can’t just bring them to camp. They don’t even know we’re outlaws, Kieran. We’d be puttin’ them in danger. Hell, if they found out, they might not even want anythin’ else to do with us. That ain’t even takin’ into consideration their… wolf predicament.”

A certain ruddiness showed in Kieran’s cheeks, not from the cold but from passion, “Well we’d be puttin’ them in danger if we left them too! We gotta take them to camp, or- or get someplace warmer and help them ‘til they’re better.”

“How long would that take? I- We can’t be away from camp much longer. We’re already pushin’ it with the snowstorm, if we don’t get back soon then Dutch’ll have both our necks.” Quieter, “And he ain’t exactly fond of you.”

“I-I-” For a moment, Kieran tried to look offended, or angry, but it fizzled. “I know. Fuck, yeah, I know. We… we don’t got a choice, Arthur. It’s camp, or they’re on their own.”

Arthur groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and fighting off his growing headache. “Alright, we tell them. We tell them we’re outlaws, and if they want to come, they’ll come. We can’t make them.”

Grimly, Kieran nodded.

Arthur nodded back, “The other thing, then.”

“Is that… even allowed?” Kieran spoke in hesitance. Three people together was pretty much unheard of in all the time he’d been living.

Another laugh, half-hearted, from Arthur, “Darlin’, when has anythin’ we’ve ever done been allowed? We’re already gonna be hanged for bein’ outlaws, and our crimes against God on top’a that. As long as everyone wants it, then it’s fine, don’tchu think?”

Kieran considered, running his hand over Branwen’s twitching flank. “We don’t even know if they do.”

“Ah, yeah, there’s that.” A sigh came from Arthur, which Duffy snorted at. “I got an inklin’, but yer right.”

“Here, put it like this. We both agree right now, we want this, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“If somethin’ happens, we know now we’re both okay with it. It’s their choice whether somethin’ does happen. We don’t do anythin’, we let them come to terms with their own feelin’s, alright?”

“You sure they even would? I ain’t talkin’ lowly of them, but, we seen they hold things back.”

Putting the brush away, Kieran circled around to face Arthur, with no barriers. “I-I think we’re gettin’ ahead of ourselves. We still gotta tell them about our business, yeah? We don’t even know if they’re gonna wanna stick around ‘til tomorrow. Let’s take it one step at a time.”

Arthur’s arms slipped around Kieran’s waist, and he leaned forward to catch the other’s lips in a soft, slow kiss. “Alright.” he murmured. “I love you, darlin’.”

“I love you too, y’big brute.”

They moved around the stables from then on in their familiar, intimate way - brushing against each other, a stray kiss, Arthur softly humming. Kieran finished teasing out Duffy’s mane as Arthur left gentle kisses on the back of his neck, then the two deemed their tasks done and trudged back through the snow to the schoolhouse.

They entered one after the other, Arthur bolting the door back tight. He turned to find you sitting upright, bundled up in so many layers of sheet that only your head was visible, just sticking out from the cocoon. “Morning.”

“Mornin’. You alright when you woke up?” Kieran went straight to stoking the fire as he spoke, taking his spot next to you.

A weak laugh left you, “Gave me a scare, actually. I realised you must have just been in the barn, or hunting, but waking up alone shook me up a bit.” In truth, you had sat for quite a while frozen to the spot, believing they had left you in your sleep, until you finally got the strength to move and found Arthur’s satchel still sat by the camp bed. He wouldn’t just leave that, right?

Sitting down on the camp bed, Arthur chuckled back, “Sorry, we thought we’d have some quiet time while you were still sleepin’.”

Arthur didn’t miss the disappointed look that crossed your face for a moment, or the way your ears drooped.

“Not that Arthur meant-”

“No, no, really it’s fine. I didn’t take it like that,” you said, smiling, but both of them could tell there was something else you wanted to say. Arthur nodded.

“Kieran, why don’tchu put breakfast on.” Nodding, Kieran busied himself, and Arthur swallowed. “Hey, there’s, uh… We gotta talk.”

The way that your ears pricked up sent a jolt of fluster through Arthur that he beat back. “Oh, yeah?” There was a little waver in your voice, Arthur could hear. You tried to steady yourself.

“Yeah. We were talkin’ out in the barn. We’re set on leavin’ tomorrow, hopefully, but you ain’t in any state to be left on yer own. We can’t just… leave you where you’re stayin’, to fend for yerself, in good faith.”

A slight twinge of irritation appeared in your features, “With all due respect, Arthur, I’ve been ‘fendin’ fer myself’,” you imitated Arthur’s gruff American drawl, “for the better part of a year. Longer if we aren’t just talking about up here.” You didn’t appreciate him talking to you like you were a wounded puppy.

“I know, alright, and I ain’t sayin’ you ain’t good at it. But you weren’t doin’ that with a shot leg. Yer barely steady on that crutch yet - yer leg needs rest to recover and y’ain’t gonna be restin’ if yer still huntin’ for food out in the cold.”

After a moment, you nodded, defeated.

“So we decided it’d be better if you… came back to our camp with us. ‘Cause we already spent too long up here wi’ the storm, and if we stay longer then it ain’t gonna be pleasant - so we gotta go, and we want you t’ come with us.”

“It don’t gotta be permanent,” Kieran quickly interjected, “Just ‘til yer up and walkin’ well enough again. Unless… you’d wanna stay.”

You looked between them, from where Kieran was kneeling at the fire to where Arthur sat on the bed. You blinked, overwhelmed, “I-I, it’s a generous offer, but-”

“Hold on, hold on.” Cutting you off, Arthur took a careful breath. “There’s somethin’ we gotta tell you, ‘fore you say anythin’. ‘N’ we hope it don’t change nothin’ but, it prob’ly will.”

There was silence, then, with you tilting your head in expectation and Arthur looking to Kieran for help. Kieran stood, an uneasy look on his face.

“We’re outlaws. Bad men. You’d be in danger at our camp, from th’ government and- a-and other gangs, too.”

No immediate alarm showed on your face, but your ears pinned back and your claws clenched into the bedding around you. “What… kind of bad men?” Immediate vivid images of burning camps, brutalised women and children, corpses came rushing to your head.

“Whatchu mean?” Arthur asked, Kieran sending him a skeptical look.

“I mean, raping and killing and robbing?”

“Killing and robbing. Not the first. Never the first.” Seemingly slightly offended, Arthur trailed off. “Van der Lindes, ever heard of it?”

Shakily, you nodded. “Whispers, yeah. In saloons, on wanted posters.” They spoke of the Van der Lindes strangely - outlaws, definitely, but more like twisted vigilantes than villains.

“That’s us, yeah.”

They spoke of a man, second hand of Dutch Van der Linde, who could kill a man with less effort than it took to lift his pinky finger, but yet managed to stop on the side of the road to help lost travellers or humour local eccentrics. A man who throttled those who irritated him, but went on fool’s errands for friends and strangers alike, always with a tinge of warm sarcasm and fondness.

Then, a quiet, “You’re Arthur Morgan, aren’t you?”

“...Yeah, I am.”

The three of you fell into tense silence, the wind outside seeping through the cracks. Sensing something needed to be said, Kieran took centre stage again, “Look, they ain’t as bad as people say. Not at all.”

You raised your gaze, looking shaken and skeptical. Arthur knew it would happen, but he still felt deep dread at the unfamiliarity in your eyes, like you were seeing them as strangers again.

“I was part of another gang, one like whatchu said before. Worse. Stable hand, forced in at gunpoint.” He swallowed, “The Van der Lindes, they took me prisoner - s-sounds bad, I know, that’s not the point - but after that they didn’t kill me or send me off on my own knowin’ I’d die. Th-that my old gang’d find me and kill me for sellin’ them out. They let me stay, took me in, even knowin’ I was an enemy and I could run off and bring my old gang to them. They let me stay, and…” Moving closer, he took Arthur’s hand, “I found out they’re a lot softer than they like to make out.”

“Now yer callin’ us sappy, ya shit-” Arthur wheedled, without fire, running his thumb over Kieran’s knuckles.

“‘Cause you are, Morgan.” Kieran returned. “Point is, the Van der Lindes ain’t like other outlaws. They ain’t only in it for the money or- or the fame - they’re a group of misfits that don’t belong anywhere else. The bottom of the barrel, in civilised society’s terms. Just- just like you, huh?”

A pause, then you let out a quiet note of curiosity. “You said before, the people you go around with don’t care about you two?” Arthur and Kieran could see, both of them, grains of tantalising intrigue slipping out from your best attempt at a stoic expression.

Arthur nodded, “A few of ‘em do, ‘course, but they wouldn’t say nothin’. Risk gettin’ a black eye, I reckon, or a bullet in the foot.”

“So we’re just sayin’, come with us. Don’t have to be forever, it’s a hell of a life to get used to- but you’d be welcome there, long as you need.”

“Christ, you’re like regular old Robin Hoods, aren’t you.” You smiled hesitantly at the floor. “Alright. I’ll come, but… You’re sure they’ll be okay with- with all this?” Your ears lifted and twitched on cue, your eyes narrowing to slits.

“If anyone’s got a problem, they won’t have one after ‘m through with ‘em.” Arthur said jokingly - but there was soft sincerity in his grin.

“Alright. I-I trust you both. I’ll… I’ll come with you.”

Chapter Text

The feeling of the room stayed uneasy, but tender, for the rest of the day as you three ate and waited out the storm. The air had become awkward and fresh, far from the raucous nature of the night you drank and danced. But it felt a lot more intimate than then, with secrets laid bare and you watching the two carefully, puzzling out whether they were still truly the kind men who took you in.

Several times the tension felt stifling. Arthur sat in early afternoon, writing in his journal, and sketching the cracks in the wall and you and Kieran against them when he ran out of things to write. It wasn’t impressive - by his standards - just an impressionless sketch with no particular telling features of you two, but you caught sight of his frequent glances and tilted your head in that signature fashion.

Watching him for a moment, your eyes shifted curiously down to the book in his hands. You crawled over, quietly, “Can I look?”

For a moment or two, Arthur’s refusal caught in his throat, a blush surfacing on his cheeks. “Y-yeah. It ain’t that good though-”

“B-be quiet, Arthur Morgan,” Kieran interjected from across the room, from where he was leaning against the wall and fiddling with his hat. “He don’t give himself enough credit in anythin’. He’s got a gift.”

“Kieran-”

You cut Arthur off with a smile and a single padded hand, until Arthur flipped open his journal to hold between the pair of you. Regarding it in awe, you traced a claw around your pencil-laden face on the page. “Is there more? That you’d wanna show, only.”

Coughing into his hand, trying to hide his bewilderment, Arthur nodded, “Uh, yeah, yeah sure.”

He thumbed through the book, you catching snatches of neat cursive paragraphs - your own name several times. Arthur showed you flowers, wildlife, members of the Van der Lindes (including the famed Dutch himself). Eventually, you found yourselves sat shoulder to shoulder, closer than you needed to be, as you scoured Arthur’s artistry together.

The way he drew made you unbelievably curious. How could this man, this apparently bloodthirsty outlaw who stole and murdered, sit for hours and gently transfer the world around him onto worn parchment? Each sketch had time and thought put into it, even the small ones of simple plants and animals only taking up a corner of a page each. And although the people were just hatchings of pencil lead with barely discernible expressions, each one made you smile at the image of him spending enough time gazing at someone to dedicate a page in his journal to their memory.

“Go back, closer to the middle. There’s one I thought looked nice - o-only if you don’t mind, of course.”

Nodding, Arthur turned back to the more recent pages, until you halted his skimming.

There was your face laid out on the page, from the first night they found you. The details of your skin, hair, teeth, the grey-black smudges of pencilled-in blood. Arthur flushed, trying to close the book, but you firmly stopped him with a hand between the pages. “This is beautiful. I-I’m not just saying that ‘cause it’s me, I mean- I’m not all that pleasant to look at, but you make me look like some sleeping maiden out of a fairy tale.”

“Y’think too lowly of yourself, darlin’.”

Almost instantly, you startled at what came out of his mouth. It wasn’t until you looked at him with wide eyes, pupils full and inky circles, that Arthur realised what he’d said. His jaw opened, no sound came out, he shut it again. Your face was red, and there was a thumping from behind you that Arthur recognised as your tail against the wooden floor.

Almost simultaneously, you both began hurriedly apologising to each other, in fits of fluster, and scrambling away from your close position. Kieran watched with barely contained laughter, hiding his face in his hat.

For the rest of the day, you took to practicing on your crutch again, Arthur deciding it was an adequate time to go hunting again for something they could bring back, to justify their absence. Kieran offered to come with, but Arthur insisted he stay with you and headed out on his own.

This eventually left Kieran and you alone together by the fire, you laying back on the floor and Kieran watching the logs crackle.

“He’s angry, isn’t he? God…”

Frowning, Kieran replied, “He ain’t mad. Arthur ain’t the best at… dealin’ with his feelings, y’know. He runs off a lot to let off steam, w-when he gets confused about stuff. He’ll be fine soon’s he’s cleared his head.”

“He called me darling. Does he… do that a lot?”

Kieran’s gaze trailed away from the flames to your face staring up at the ceiling. “I-I mean, around me, yeah. I doubt he goes around callin’ it to just anyone.”

Rolling onto your side - on your good leg - you took a deep breath and processed. “Why’d he call me it?”

Silence for a few moments, Kieran looking back at the fire again. “Well, why’d you think?”

“He doesn’t…” You couldn’t comprehend these men. They were together, clearly, they’d told you themselves. But they seemed so sweet to you, so open, not minding holding you at night and comforting you through your nightmares. Maybe you were misinterpreting simple acts of kindness as flirtation, but you’d never been one to tell the difference anyway, especially not when Arthur called you “darling” in his low, rumbling voice.

Shrugging, Kieran laughed a little. “M-maybe it was just a slip of the tongue, hell, we don’t know.”

You whined. “Yeah. We don’t.”

Kieran sighed, and laid down next to you, face to face. “Y’can talk with him when he comes back, if you want. You don’t gotta, but if you wanna. If yer worried about gettin’ in-between us again, we told you, you ain’t!”

“I know, I know you said that. I feel out of place here - this was supposed to be your time alone and I ruined it.”

“You ain’t ruined anythin’! I’m glad we met you, and I know Arthur is too.” You weren’t reassured. “Are you thinkin’ we’re only takin’ you with us outta pity?”

“N-no! That’s not… I-I appreciate it, I’m grateful, I-”

“It’s okay if yer feelin’ that way. I feel like folks do most things for me outta pity. B-but trust me, please, when I say that we talked through it a while and we know this’s the best choice. Not outta pity, alright, but ‘cause we care about you and- and w-we think it’d be awful lonely in a cabin out in the Grizzlies on yer own. ‘Sides, it’s our fault yer in this state anyway. Mine, really, I-I shot.”

“I told you, I forgive you-” Your hand came to feel the space between you, wanting to touch Kieran but hovering in uncertainty.

“I know, and I told you, you ain’t gettin’ in the way.” Hesitantly, Kieran took your hand, and wordlessly shifted in closer, letting you curl into him. It felt more personal in the daytime, not huddling together for warmth at night but holding each other tight on the floor of a shack in the broad and icy daylight. Your turbulent feelings churned in your stomach, still not dampened.

“Thanks, Kieran.”

When Arthur returned, he brushed the snow on his gloves off onto the front of his coat and looked up to find Kieran and you sat by the fire, one behind the other. You lazed in front, waving your hand about in the heat of the flames, while Kieran sat with his legs parted around you. After a moment, Arthur could make out that Kieran was brushing through your unwashed hair.

“Evenin’, Arthur.” Kieran only glanced over for a second, “Sorry, I took the comb outta your satchel. Hope y’don’t mind?”

Bemused, Arthur strode closer, almost missing how you looked away with darkening cheeks. “Not at all - how’d you get this idea?”

Your hair hadn’t been tended to since before you met them, and the comb was snagged on a particularly nasty matt. “It’s been a while since I’ve dealt with it,” you murmured, “Kieran offered. Hurts like anything.”

“Where’s your catch?” Saying this, Kieran managed to ease the teeth of the comb through the twist. You hissed, a growl in the back of your throat building at the tugging on your scalp. Arthur noticed how Kieran rubbed gently at the nape of your neck with his thumb, slow and firm, and you settled down again. Your hair was almost completely untangled now, however still slick with grease.

Settling himself down on the camp bed, Arthur stretched until his shoulders popped. “In the barn. Colder in there - thought it’d keep it fresh fer longer without worryin’ about anythin’ stealin’ it. We can cut it up and cook it before we go.”

“Smart,” You finally looked over at Arthur, shuffling away from Kieran. You couldn’t avoid asking about it. “You… want to talk about earlier?”

Leaning back, Arthur let out a long sigh and massaged the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry fer, uh, runnin’ off like that. ‘M sure Kieran told you, I’m not the best with feelin’s… Tend t’ avoid ‘em and just keep everything to my diary,” He gave a wheezing, humourless laugh.

“I get that, it’s alright.” Your eyes followed Kieran as he got up and shifted to stoke the fire, letting them talk, “I’d just want to know, you know? If…” Your gaze stayed pointedly away from Arthur, jaw tight. It was easier this way, you told yourself. “It was just a slip-up, right?”

There was a look in your face, an aloofness in your eyes and in the way you finally shifted up to look at Arthur. It was almost pleading.

“Right?”

“Sure,” Arthur said with a stone in his throat, “It was a mistake.”

Behind you, Arthur saw Kieran’s head twitch, rock up, turn to him. His face showed his surprise, and his downtrodden expression.

That night you moved back up to the camp bed, shivering and whimpering in your sleep. No warm arms to hold you or soft voice to chase your nightmares away. Arthur lay on his back, awake throughout the night, forcing himself not to drag you back down beside him. Laying against him, Kieran appeared asleep, but Arthur knew he was similarly drifting in and out of dreams while you whined next to them. He sighed, deep and long.

Chapter Text

Your time in Colter had come to an end when you all got up the next morning. All three of you had found little sleep, but nonetheless you gathered your belongings and re-packed the horses. They had decided you would ride on Branwen behind Kieran, as Duffy was better suited to carrying the copious amounts of heavy bear meat and the dense coat. When you all had first walked out to the stables that morning and found an entire dead bear sitting in what had used to be Pearson’s kitchen, waiting to be harvested and cooked quickly, Kieran had gone for Arthur’s throat - “An entire bear, on yer own? Morgan, a-are you fuckin’ insane?” - but it helped lift the mood slightly once he calmed down.

The plan was to first ride to Dormin Crest - your cabin - to gather whatever supplies you wanted to take and to retrieve your horse. You wouldn’t ride her back due to your leg, but you’d tie her to one of the horses and take her with you. Then the three of you would travel back to Valentine, stay there for the night, and head back to Clemen’s Point in the morning.

“We got everythin’?” Kieran said, slotting your crutch into Branwen’s saddle. You yourself were holding yourself up on one of the stable’s beams, shivering in your thin shirt and workpants.

Finishing up with re-adjusting Duffy’s saddle straps, Arthur gave the horses a once over and nodded. “Yeah, just about.” As he spoke, his eyes caught on you, shaking with the cold, and he frowned. “Hey, d’you wanna wear my coat? I can do without it.”

Blinking in surprise, you began to shake your head, but a look from Kieran made you reconsider. “I- Alright. Until we get to my cabin. I’ve got a coat there.”

Arthur nodded, getting closer as he undid his coat and slid it off, leaving him in his shirt and tough leather vest. You turned to allow him to settle it on your shoulders, pulling it on and - after trying with your own trembling, useless hands - letting Arthur do it back up. The collar brushed against the fluff of your ears, and already you felt a lot better. Striding back to Duffy, Arthur pulled out his jacket and shrugged it on. It provided little comfort, but he was practically boiling alive with the blush on his face.

Shoving the stable doors open, Kieran stood by to let Arthur lead the horses out, and then went back inside to help you limp out after him. Arthur let Kieran mount Branwen first, then between them, they helped you up onto the back of the steed. Then, finally, Arthur climbed upon Duffy and you set off back home.

Now the snowstorm had finally ceased, there was a deep, fresh coat over everything that blew up around their horses’ hooves with the weak breeze as they rode. The sky was clear, blue, with the heightening dawn sun bright but giving no warmth. Casting a glance behind him, Arthur saw you looking around in wonder, a gentle smile on your face. You were leaning forward against Kieran, resting against his back, arms tucked around the man’s waist. You looked serene, and Arthur settled his gaze back on the path as he found himself smiling at the image of you all together.

A while later, you came up to a rickety little cabin with a hitching post outside - predictably, the rope had been entirely chewed through. Helping you down and inside, Arthur began taking anything you pointed out and stringing it onto the horses. It was a single room - a fireplace, a bed, cabinets, a table, not much else. The windows were shattered and boarded up, and it didn’t look all that homely despite how clearly you had tried to make it so.

After stripping the place almost bare, you gave Arthur’s coat back and shooed him out so you could change from the old moth-eaten clothes from Colter. Arthur joined Kieran back at the horses, frowning. “Y’think they’re plannin’ on comin’ back up here after they’re healed? It ain’t… ideal.”

“I hope not.” Kieran replied, eyeing the large gaps between the door and the frame it sat in, letting in gusts of cold air.

Soon afterward, you appeared again in the doorway, now in a thick brown winter coat and black boots. You limped back towards them.

“Where’s your horse?” Kieran asked, while Arthur retrieved his lasso.

Without warning, you gave a shrill whistle and a subsequent strange, howling noise. It didn’t sound like a traditional wolf’s call, moreso a peculiarly shaped yell. It worked, as after a few seconds a high whinny broke out in the trees and a pristine, white Arabian with a black saddle came barrelling through the snow towards the three of you. She danced around, rearing and nickering until she came to a restless stop in front of you; you welcomed her, laughing and kissing her nose.

“Christ, h-how’d you manage to find her?” Kieran had a mesmerised look on his face, “That’s an Arabian, a white one, too - they come out at at least- at least a thousand dollars in any stable!”

You looked carefree as you stroked over Darling’s nose, “I told you, she’s wild. She hung out around Lake Isabella until I found her and broke her in. I let her loose while I’m working, usually.”

“She’s pretty, damn.” Arthur stepped a little closer, only for Darling to instantly back up and rear. “You oughtta put the rope on, she’d bite me.”

You did so with a bit of coaxing, and they secured her to Duffy, seen as you couldn’t steer her with your bad leg. As an afterthought, you moved some of your things to her bare saddle to even out the weight between the three steeds. Once again, they helped you up behind Kieran and began the journey down to Valentine.

You three stopped often to give the horses a reprieve from the weight of your supplies, as well as the weight of two people on one horse and one man and a mammoth pile of bear meat on the other. These breaks were spent lazing in the sun, eating or napping - now out of your winter gear, which left you in some thicker brown jeans, a faded red overshirt and black suspenders. You looked around often in a trance, and Kieran realised it was probably your first time out of the mountains in a year. The stablehand would point out plants he knew, any good fishing spots you passed, and Arthur caught on after a while and similarly indicated points of interest he’d noted on his travels.

The sun sinking behind the mountains, they neared Valentine, and you tightened your hold around Kieran. “Have we got something I can hide myself with?”

This brought the two steering to a halt, both thinking for a moment.

“Here, y’can take my jacket, should be long enough to hide yer tail with.” Arthur had dismounted, crossing to Branwen to shrug his coat off and hand it up to you.

Kieran twisted to talk to you both, “We got a scarf or somethin’ for the face? Maybe yer bandana, Arthur?”

“Gotcha,” Arthur was already undoing his bandit’s neckerchief and even handing up his hat for good measure. With everything in place, you looked slightly suspicious, but hopefully no one would raise any concerns with two calm and unmasked men in front.

So with you covered up, tucking your head into Kieran’s shoulder until your face was entirely hidden by the brim of the hat, you all trotted into Valentine towards the hotel. A few cast glances were all you got, mainly at the stock on their horses rather than to the concealed person on Branwen’s back. You hitched at the hotel, Arthur hopping off Duffy to head inside and book your room while Kieran and you waited outside. Better to get you up the stairs as quickly as possible than have you standing at the front desk attracting attention.

Arthur appeared at the door a minute later, gesturing you inside, and Kieran helped you off Branwen and hurried you up to the bedroom. They left you in the room to unwind while they carried some of the supplies up to ease the horses’ load, and once that was done Arthur told you both he’d also booked two baths and the first should be ready.

“You can go first, I want to rest for a minute,” you insisted until your companions relented and agreed. Arthur went down first, followed by Kieran a few minutes later, as to not look suspicious - but Arthur had slipped the man behind the front desk an extra five dollars to be safe.

With them gone, you took to examining the room. Small, one bed, mirror, a dresser. You’d be sleeping together again tonight, then, else you were on the wooden floor. You settled down on the bed, sighing deeply. No knowing how long those two would be in the washroom for - no knowing what they’d be doing, either. You swallowed, pushing those thoughts away. None of your business.

Since you had no way to entertain yourself, you slumped back onto the mattress and resigned yourself to waiting out their return. You felt a little bad about your dirty body on the clean sheets, but if you sat on the floor you doubted you’d be able to get back up. Closing your eyes, you let yourself drift off for a while.

Chapter Text

A dozen minutes after they left, Kieran and Arthur re-appeared, clean and flustered. Passing them wordlessly, you pulled up your bandana again and headed down to the bath. You tried to ignore the way their content and flushed expressions made your stomach twist.

Arthur stretched, his muscles weary, and kicked his boots off before settling on the bed, back to the headboard. He began massaging deep into his thigh muscles, saddle-sore from riding all day, and sighed in relief. His eyes had slipped shut in concentration, but he opened them when he felt a dip at the end of the bed; he smiled slyly at Kieran, who had perched himself there. “C’mere, you.”

Similarly shoving off his boots, Kieran crawled to where Arthur was seated, laughing softly. Arthur let him settle in the space between his thighs, tilting his head up to peck tenderly at the stableboy’s lips. Chest to chest, the two exchanged affections for some time, until Kieran pulled away to snuggle up under Arthur’s chin. Taking to rubbing circles over his lover’s back, Arthur hummed, “So how’re feelin’, then?”

“I’m fine, darlin’, how’re you?” Kieran’s voice was heavy with sleep.

Snorting, Arthur replied, “I mean about Colter, y’fool. Did it turn out better this time ‘round?”

A pause, then Kieran shifted back until Arthur could see his face. His eyes were tired, but there was somewhat of a fresh glow about him. A renewed energy. “Y-yeah. It helped, actually, ‘specially findin’ our friend. Makin’ new mem’ries, corny ‘sit sounds… I ain’t headin’ back up there in a hurry, but I… I think it’ll help, y’know, with nightmares ‘n’ such.”

“I’m glad.” Arthur brought his other hand up to stroke over the back of Kieran’s head, feeling something warm swelling in his chest. “I love you, darlin’, feel like I don’t say it enough.”

Kieran laughed, sitting up to kiss Arthur once more. “You say it every time y’look at me. I can see it in yer eyes.”

They were about to return to their quiet passion, when a cough sounded from the door. They both jumped, pushing away from each other, Kieran wheeling around. You stood, freshly pampered, with your hand still on the newly-closed door’s knob, red-faced and looking anywhere but at the men on the bed. “I knocked, but- um, didn’t know i-if you heard me,” you coughed, “I should have- have waited, I’m sorry-”

You looked on the brink of fainting, the hand grasping the doorknob unsteady with sweat. Instantly, Kieran stood from the bed and rushed over, “Hey, hey, y’alright?” He seemed ready to catch you if you passed out, or at least help you to the bed from where you stood leaning precariously on your good leg.

“Y-yeah, yeah, I’m-” you didn’t finish, grinding your hands into your eyesockets and whining deep in your throat. Arthur made to get up, but Kieran was too quick and was already half-shoving you towards the bed to sit. You hunched over, still jamming the heels of your palms into your eyes, snapping your jaws and groaning.

“What’sa matter? We ain’t mad, you’re fine,” Arthur moved to the other side of you, giving Kieran a helpless look.

Eventually, you took your hands away, only to hold them out in front of you where they continued to tremble. “Maybe… maybe I shouldn’t come back with you. I-I’m better off on my own, I can take care of my leg, it’s not that bad. I c-can just take Darling and go back on my own, d-don’t have to bother you anymore-”

“No, hey, where’s this comin’ from?” Kieran tried to take your hands to steady them, but you flinched away, your hackles raised like when you first met. This made you bump into Arthur, which only made you more stressed, until you were hunched back over like you were trying to get as far away from them as possible.

“I-I- Both of you, I, I can’t help it- I need to go, I k-keep ruining everything,” Your hands crept into your hair, tugging hard, guttural noises leaving your throat. “If I stay, i-it’ll only get worse and you’ll hate me, you’ll- I have to go, have to-”

The men either side of you met eyes, both of them realising at the same time what this was about. Arthur managed to ease your shaking form back upright, and pulled you into a loose hug, stroking calming circles over your heaving shoulders. Inching closer, Kieran lifted one of his bony hands to join, performing the familiar massage over the back of your neck. Murmuring in a comforting tone, Arthur told you, “C’mon, s’okay. Use yer words, take as long as y’want, we’ll wait. We ain’t mad atchu, and we ain’t gonna be mad at anythin’ y’say. We can stay here long as it takes.”

It took a while, but gradually you untensed in his arms. You didn’t get any quieter, but you leant fully against Arthur and kneaded your palms against the other’s chest much like a cat would.

It took even longer for you to whisper, “You and Kieran… I-I want what you have, but- but not with anyone else. Only you two. I’m sorry.”

“Y’got nothing to be sorry for, darlin’.” Kieran shifted closer behind you, looping his arms around your middle. “We… we’d like that, a-as well, right, Arthur?”

What? Did you just hear him right?

Feeling you go still, Arthur nodded, “We’ve been wantin’ it since that first night in the mountains, but we didn’t wanna pressure y’into anythin’, make you feel like y’had to. We didn’t know if ya felt the same.”

“That morning, the stable, when I woke up alone-” You were pulling up, but not away, enough to look between them from where you sat in both their holds.

Looking sheepish, Kieran nodded, “We were talkin’ ‘bout the plan, takin’ you back to camp ‘n’ everythin’, but… yeah, y-yeah, then we decided to hold off on sayin’ anythin’ to you ‘cause we didn’t know how y’felt.”

Rather suddenly, you let out a bark of laughter, your head dropping into your hands. “I-I was so worried, so…” You were still confused, slightly hurt that they’d keep it from you while you’d been so mixed up for the past few days. But all that was overshadowed by the immense relief seeping into your bones. They felt the same way. They wanted you.

“Well you don’t gotta worry no more, darlin’...” You turned to look at Arthur, disbelief and mirth in your face. “If y’d have us.”

A few minutes later, the three of you were back where Kieran and Arthur were previously, however with you present this time. Arthur sat against the headboard, you cuddled against him on one side and Kieran sat up a little more on the other side of him. Picking up from where they left off, Kieran and Arthur swapped kisses and gentle touches until Arthur caught sight of you watching them, wide-eyed and blushing, out of the corner of his eye. He nudged Kieran away, and led you up to hesitantly straddle his legs.

For a moment, Arthur simply admired you sat before him, raising a hand to trace over your hot cheek. You were stiff, nervous in his lap, inexperienced and unsure of what to do. Gently, so gently, he ran his hands down you, tracing down from your cheeks, over your neck, firmly massaging in your shoulders. Loosening you up, letting little sighs fall from your lips. Now that you were bathed, Arthur noticed the sheen to your hair, the texture to it. His finger moved to twirl one of the strands, humming absentmindedly as you cocked your head slightly. That head tilt, again - for a moment, in his mind’s eye, Arthur saw the peculiar wolf standing in the snow with a single padded, furry hand brandishing the deer.

Then, slowly, he leaned forward, guiding you until your lips met and he felt a little stuttering sigh against his mouth. His eyes were already closed, savouring the distinct taste of meat on your tongue, which was jarring but felt right, only for the strange person-creature he held on his lap.

You whimpered, vocal as always, as you felt Kieran move in from behind and curve around to plant gentle kisses on your cheek, against your jaw and the ridge of your ear. The man’s hands rested on your elbows, sliding up to your wrists and back down again in similar, reassuring actions. You were glad - it wasn’t like they were doing anything particularly raunchy, but having this much attention on you was overwhelming. After being alone for so long… Between them, they felt you unwind - your tail beating against Kieran - until you felt confident enough to turn on Arthur’s lap, leaning back to rest your head on the outlaw’s shoulder like a pillow. You pulled Kieran down over you to kiss similarly, both of you sleepy and smiling into the softest of kisses.

Unfortunately for Arthur, you found your position on his legs comfortable enough to slip off into sleep right then and there, with Kieran almost as a blanket. Kieran, as gently and quietly as he could, untangled himself from your hold to put out the lit candles on the fireplace and make sure the curtains were properly closed. Afterwards, he returned to the bed, sitting next to Arthur and leaning his head on the man’s shoulder, as they both watched you sleep.

It didn’t take long for the usual to start - the whining, the crying, the tossing and turning that nearly sent you off of Arthur’s lap and onto the floor. Arthur watched, concern etched into his features, trying his best to comfort you in your sleep without waking you. He wasn’t sure whether you were supposed to wake someone when they were having nightmares, but he didn’t have to agonise for much longer - you tipped, losing your balance and almost toppling off the bed. Still half-asleep, you bolted upright, bewildered and still teary-eyed.

Suppressing a small laugh at the teetering, Arthur pulled you in close and stroked the back of your head, “You alright?” Kieran placed his hand between your shoulderblades, trying to ease some of the tension out of your muscles.

“Y-yeah, just… just nightmares again.” You looked shaken up, but you just sighed and buried yourself deeper into their affectionate touches.

Lips pulling into a worried line, Kieran glanced to Arthur, “You… wanna talk about it? I get ‘em too, we… well, yer havin’ them every night. Might help.”

“No, it’s…” You had brought a hand to play with the hair at the back of Arthur’s neck, grinding your teeth loud enough for them to hear. You trailed off, then tried again. If you could confess your feelings, maybe they’d take the nightmares well too. “If you p-promise not to call me a freak or something.”

“We’re never gonna call you anythin’ close, sugar. C’mon.” Arthur prodded.

The silence stretched out for a moment, until you coughed and blurted out, “I keep getting nightmares of killing you two.”

When there was no immediate reply, you started pulling away, but quickly there came the reassurances and shushing. You settled back into their arms, and started to elaborate.

“Ever since we met, since my brain started… caring about you, I guess, I’ve been having nightmares of turning and killing you both. Y’know, as a wolf, eating you. I wake up feeling ill. That’s… the reason I went to the Grizzlies in the first place, ‘cause I didn’t wanna hurt anyone, and now that I’m letting myself care about people, I’m terrified I’ll hurt you.”

“Hey, you don’t gotta be scared. You know when you turn, right?” Kieran soothed as he ran his fingers through your hair, “If y’know, then we can plan - hell, maybe even take you back up there whenever it’s time so y’can be alone again. You don’t gotta worry about hurtin’ us, but we’re here all the time for you if y’are.”

Chuckling, Arthur nodded, “He’s right. You ain’t a monster, okay? You ain’t alone anymore, you don’t gotta be alone anymore.”

“How is it you always know what to say…” There was lightness in your tone, thankfully, and they saw your tail swishing back and forth.

All three of you broke out into laughter, lazy, and beginning to fall victim to drowsiness. Finally out of the Grizzlies, you could strip down to your underclothes and settle comfortably down in a thick quilt. It was a tight squeeze, laying down altogether, but with plenty of tangling together you made it work. You lay in the middle as usual, and you gave Kieran a gentle kiss before craning your head around to peck Arthur as well; with that, you drifted off, one by one, a pile of limbs and snoring.

Chapter Text

For once, you slept soundly, uninterrupted, until the sunlight through the cracks in the curtains became too much. And even then, you stayed wrapped around each other, half-asleep. Lemoyne could wait, the gang could wait, for now it was you three and the Valentine morning sun and nothing else.

Eventually, you tired of Kieran playing with your hair and the increasing stuffiness of the bed, beginning to wriggle out from their arms, “C’mon, we should go. I’m getting too hot in here.”

With reluctant agreements, Kieran and Arthur similarly dislodged themselves and the three of you redressed. The outlaws restocked the horses with anything they took to the room, while you sat on the bed, antsy. When the last of it was cleared out, you donned your disguise once more and slung an arm around Kieran’s shoulders as you descended the hotel stairs.

You called thanks to the owner as you left, mounting back up and leaving Valentine behind you. Once you all were clear of the last few houses, you relaxed, deflating on Kieran’s shoulder. “We’re goin’ further South,” the stablehand warned, “So you might wanna take that extra gear off soon. It gets hot.”

This time you only stopped once, mostly for a stretch of legs and for you to hand Arthur back his coat. You pointedly held onto the hat and bandana, pulling the latter down around your neck and smirking coyly at the man. Arthur didn’t protest, especially not when you gave him a brief kiss for his troubles. You shared a meal, just the three of you, for the last time on the outskirts of Emerald Ranch.

“Strange, y’know…” You were laid out in the grass, full and sleepy. Your yellow eyes flitted about under heavy eyelids, watching the clouds drift languidly across the midday sky.

“What is?” Arthur was upright next to you, picking his teeth with one chipped nail.

A smile spread over your face, one that stretched into an airy laugh. “Maybe it isn’t, I don’t know. Two outlaws are some of the first people to give me any kind of respect, or show any care for me. There’s a moral in that somewhere.”

Joining in the laughter, Kieran slipped down to lay next to you. “What’d I tell you? We’re different.”

“Maybe.” Kieran felt your padded hand slip into his, squeezing. “Hey, that one sorta looks like Arthur.”

“Which one? Next t’ the cat, facin’ to the side?”

“No, no… Further to the left, see, the hat.”

“What’re you two fools on about? Show me.”

“Oh, I see it! Yer right, ha. Sorta looks surly, too.”

“I told you!”

“There ain’t such thing as a goddamn surly-lookin’ cloud, Kieran. Both of you’re talkin’ outcher asses.”

“Nah, you just don’t wanna admit you’re surly.”

“I’ll show you surly, ya git- c’mere!”

Chapter Text

Crunching along the familiar shrouded path to Clemens Point on his horse, Arthur rolled his shoulders and grumbled, although he was in a fine mood. The sunlight was dimming, barely making its way through the leaves above and around him, and leaving dappled purple light on the trail. His guns clinked in their holsters, his stirrups jostling as he went, and he switched his reins into one hand to tug off his hat and wipe the sweat from his brow. With the evening came the muggy feeling of the swaddling temperature dropping bit by bit, the mosquitos still persistent as ever in the fading sunlight.

A gruff voice called out through the brush, “Who’s there?”

Arthur barely gave more than a grunt before he trotted right on past Bill, too exhausted to even flash him a glance. He rode right over to the hitching poles, giving the camp a quick once-over as he slowed Duffy. The flaps of Dutch’s tent were already closed, grating operatic music floating from inside as usual; most sat around finishing up the remnants of Pearson’s evening stew, or smoking on the perimetre.

Slipping down from Duffy’s saddle, Arthur spotted Kieran over at the scout camp cleaning Taima’s saddle. He stretched, cracking his back and hissing through his teeth, before strolling over towards the stableboy.

“Evenin’, Kieran.” He seemed to catch the other offguard as he took a seat next to him, the man jumping until he saw who it was. A smile quickly appeared on his face, greeting Arthur and shifting slightly closer.

“Where’s you-know-who? Didn’t see them when I came in,” Arthur began rolling a cigarette, sticking the tail end into the fire and taking a drag. He offered it to Kieran, who took a quick puff before replying.

“Out by the lake, I-I think. Saw them talkin’ to Jack earlier, and Abigail, but that musta been a couple hours ago.” Arthur nodded, leaning heavily on his partner. “How’re you doin’? People ain’t tellin’ me much, b-but I keep hearin’ ‘bout those two plantation families.”

Grunting, Arthur stood. “Ah, ‘sa buncha crap. I’ll tell y’bout it later, I wanna find our sugar first.”

Giving a light chuckle, Kieran followed him up, “Alright. Gimme a sec, gotta put this back on Taima.”

As Kieran left to finish up his work for the day, Arthur snuffed his cigarette out in the dirt and sniffed, surveying camp once more. Lenny and Sean playing a game of five finger fillet at one of the tables, Mary-Beth and Tilly sat under one of the tarps reading together - he could almost ignore Micah’s obnoxious snores from where he sat propped up against a wagon.

A minute or so later, Kieran waved him over as the man began wandering towards the shoreline, and Arthur quickly tailed. He received a few, “Welcome back, Arthur,” and “Mr. Morgan!”’s as he passed, reciprocating each with a similar greeting or simple grunt.

When they reached the beach of Flat Iron Lake, they found you propped up against a log, reading what looked to be one of Mary-Beth’s novels. Kieran slipped down into the sand on one side of you, while Arthur slumped down on the log at the other. It took a few moments for you to even realise they were there, so absorbed in the book until Arthur gave a cough that made your ears prick.

Your head raised, eyes wide and blinking quickly as if you were squinting against the sun - of which was quickly vanishing behind the water. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t… Got too caught up in the reading, aha.” Your head turned to look up and see Arthur, “Arthur! You’re back, I missed you.” Lifting a hand to the man, Arthur accepted it and cradled it in his lap.

“Missed you too, darlin’, Kieran too.” he murmured, smiling softly and tiredly.

“How are you? Hope you’re not working yourself dead again. You should come home more often, sleep in an actual bed.” You rested your head against Arthur’s thigh, gazing out across the water. Next to you, Kieran picked up the discarded novel and began reading the back, mouthing the words slowly.

A sigh, and a hoarse laugh. “‘m fine, sugar. Y’worry too much.”

“I worry for a good reason, bastard.” you returned, your tone light.

“Yeah, ‘course you do. Whatchu readin’?”

Eyes travelling to Kieran struggling through the blurb, you said, “Oh, just something Mary-Beth lended me. Some English noble romance - isn’t that interesting, but it passes the time.”

“Y’sure seemed interested a minute ago,” Kieran poked, handing the book back.

“Oh, be quiet.” You slung your legs over Kieran’s lap, rolling your eyes. “You gotten up to anything interesting lately, Arthur?”

One of Arthur’s hands moved to work its way through your hair, fiddling with the strands. “Mm, I guess. Helped out these two fools from the families we’re scammin’ - boy from one family, girl from the other. They got some kinda forbidden love thing goin’, wantin’ me to deliver letters between ‘em.”

“Aw, look at you, regular old matchmaker.” You laughed, your cheeks growing red.

Scoffing, Arthur gave a little tug at your roots. “I’m only doin’ it ‘cause they’re payin’ me.”

“You say that, Morgan, but yer always doin’ these things w-whether they pay you or not. I think yer just a softie.” said Kieran, a teasing edge to his otherwise sincere voice. “Yer a nice man, whether you wanna believe it or not.”

“You just go on believin’ that, ya dimwit. Remind me who threw you on the backa their horse ‘n’ said they’d break ev’ry bone in yer body?”

A triumphant note in his voice, Kieran shot back, “An’ remind me whose now callin’ that same dimwit “darlin’”? Yer all talk, Arthur.”

“He’s right, Arthur - you’re a kind man, God help you. You can shoot as many people as you want, but you’re always gonna be the man who took the bullet out of my leg, like it or not.”

“Sure, sure,” Arthur let himself laugh, cheeks hot with the praise his lovers were showering him in. Often he couldn’t see any reason either of you would want to stay with him, seeing himself only as valuable as the next score he could bring into camp for Dutch, but you stayed with him throughout anything and it was jarring compared to the self-deprecating thoughts that clung to him like sweat.

You had been at camp for a month or two now, and your leg was almost back to full working condition thanks to plenty of bedrest and limping around (on a better-suited crutch that Charles had helpfully fashioned from the branch you brought back). It killed you to just lay in Arthur’s cot all day, which the outlaw understood all too well, but the most they allowed you to do was help the girls with sewing or washing. No carrying crates or bags of feed around, no chopping wood - no strenuous labour, not until you could walk freely without a crutch. It drove you crazy to feel so useless, but they reassured you you’d be much better suited to camp chores once you were fully healed.

Surprisingly, most of the gang had taken your appearance in stride and it was barely a topic of conversation now. Of course, people like Micah couldn’t be trusted not to step on nerves, but you seemed to have scared him off (at least for the time being) with a particularly nasty claw mark to the face. You were still congratulated on this occasionally.

You all had agreed by this point that you would not be returning to the Grizzlies - alone, at least. Once, since meeting you, had you all ridden back up, and it was when you were due to turn. For one night, Arthur and Kieran sat in the schoolhouse at Colter, listening to their lover barrel around in the snow. Then it was back home, to a lot of hot stew and special tea Grimshaw had provided a recipe for, trying to hide her concern.

Arthur had promised you that once you were better, he’d teach you to properly shoot. You knew the basics, for hunting, but you insisted you wanted to be able to properly defend yourself and your new family, and not sit helplessly if danger came their way. Similarly, you told Kieran you’d help him with his chores as soon as the pair allowed you to.

You slotted into camp life about as easily as they could have expected. It was bumpy, as early days often were - with them perhaps coddling you slightly too much on certain days and you snapping at them, or communication faltering between the three of you with someone’s feelings getting trodden on as a result. But all three of you were trying, and you made it work between you.

The sun fully disappeared beneath the rippling lake, with the first night breeze flickering over the group, a single strand of chill air in the humid fog clinging to your skin. And you sighed, content finally to lay back and let it pass without a word.