#coyoterabbit

Self indulgent au —cause I watched too much akot7k now I need medieval realism.

Louise is a beautiful princess who gets anything she wants(at the expense of everyone around her) and Arthur is her loyal knight. Arthur grew up with highwaymen and is a criminal thru “birth right”(definitely something Louise’s dad would say if he knew). He and Dutch killed a couple of knights sent to join the king’s guard and stole their armor and… destination…. so Arthur’s got a secret. Dutch is so sour about how quickly Arthur starts to succeed as a knight. And now Arthur’s tasked to protect the princess. WEEEEEEE!!!!!

I ended up writing something for this. Maybe I’ll write more. We’ll see. CW for mention domestic violence, drug use and the implication of cheating. 917 words.

This time Louise and Arthur are really the worst versions of themselves. No redeeming qualities.

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It was late night when he heard her footsteps in the woods. From her unsure step, he assumed she wasn’t a threat, but his palm rested on the firearm on his hip. He stayed quiet. He knew she could already see him. No use opening his mouth. No such thing as too careful.

“Excuse me?” She spoke first, not yet having stepped into the clearing. “Excuse me, mister,” she continued, Arthur shifted his direction from the fire to meet her. She stumbled into the clearing, holding up her skirt and examining the mud on her spats. “Do you think you could help me? I got separated from my husband.”

He furrowed his brow at her, judging her choice of attire and ignoring her question. “Why you wearin that?” She had on an evening gown. Her shoulders were exposed. He noticed damage on her dress, blood stained the front lace, turning the celadon of the garment into a sick brown. It appeared her throat had been slit. The hem of the garment was tattered and dirtied with mud. Arthur knew who she was even if he’d never met her in his waking life.

“I, uh…. I can’t remember.” She muttered, pushing her curly blonde bangs out of her eyes. The curl was wilting from the humidity. “Could I just take a seat for a while?” She sounded exhausted. Arthur could tell why that could be. She didn’t wait for an answer from him before she plopped down next to him. Too close for comfort.

“Well, damn. I guess it’s alright.” He grunted and scooted away from her. The two of them were sitting on the trunk of a downed tree. It made a decent bench by the campfire.

She looked back on him in surprise. “Do I stink?” She had a thick New England accent. Arthur wondered how long she’d been married.

“I may have known of your husband? Can’t say ‘less you tell me who he is.” He kept his voice low, like it was a threat.

She looked rightfully wary. It gave Arthur a jolt of excitement he knew wasn’t healthy. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” She urged, finally looking down to see the blood on her dress. “Oh heavens…”

“Looks like you got in a little scrape.” He joked, trying to keep the atmosphere calm for his own benefit.

“I can’t remember.” Her chest heaved. Arthur didn’t take his eyes off her breasts. He watched her cope with the implosion of her very existence. There had been no question in his case. Louise barely knew what happened to her. From the circles under her eyes, he could only presume her husband had been administering her laudanum, likely leading to her confusion in the events leading up to her death.

“You’re alright.” Arthur urged, as he started to become a little worried she might hyperventilate and pass out into the fire. “Deep breaths, girl.” He knew his voice wasn’t comforting and it made his guts twist when the opposite of the desired effect happened. She stood up and stumbled forward.

Arthur was quick behind her, grabbing her waist and pulling her back into his chest. “Hey.” He mumbled against her hair. “I know it’s scary. But Dutch ain’t here no more.” She spun around and wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his chest.

“You smell like him.” She whispered. A conflict inside of Arthur started to build. This was something he’d never have considered in his waking life. It was true that Dutch wasn’t the best at keeping women. On occasion, Arthur had refused advances from the likes of Annabelle and Molly just to name a couple. He especially didn’t like being compared to Dutch. He resisted the inherent urge to push her away. She felt too nice in his arms.

Instead of shoving her against the tree trunk, Arthur let out a grunt of displeasure as his response.

She wept against him and he gently drew his fingers along her back. It took her a few moments before she was able to process what he’d said. “Wait, did you say you… you knew him?”

At this point, Arthur had relished in the warmth of another person a bit too long. He was forced to consider her words over the ringing in his ears. “Yes, baby—“ he was slurring his words. They felt like mud in his mouth. “I mean uh, yes ma’am.” He responded, catching himself. She didn’t seem to notice his slip up. Maybe she didn’t care. He felt dizzy.

She looked up at him and he made direct eye contact with her for the first time that night. Her eyes were light, even in the dark forest. They reminded him of uranium glass. “Is he gone?” She still wept, her eyes were wet and full of despair.

“He ain’t here.” Arthur confirmed, trying to keep his jaw tight. He knew it would sound vague, but he couldn’t bring himself to be the bearer of bad news. He had to let her figure it out on her own. The distress on her face didn’t falter. “What uh, what should I call you?” Maybe she was just an apparition. Maybe this really was hell. Either way, Arthur felt like he was taking psychic damage from her.

“Louise.” She answered. He hadn’t noticed her hands reaching up from his chest to his shoulders and wrapping around his neck. She was just as crazy as Dutch. No wonder they’d married.

This is my favorite scene from this chapter because I’m normal. CW for surgery on a conscious patient? Really wasn’t sure how to put a warning for this;

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Just some stream of consciousness stuff I wrote and have no plans to go back and revise. A recount of every second from the moment Arthur and Louise lay eyes on eachother until they go to bed that night. I’ve had this in my notes for a while and it’s just too big to keep there 🫡

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Louise wasn’t sure what to expect when the bus pulled up to the house. She expected the overgrown yard. She expected a bit of silence. She expected there was a large possibility she was falling into another kind of trap. Anything was better than being stuck on a bus with Dutch Van Der Linde. His first name alone made her want to roll her eyes.

Despite her hatred for him, settling deeper in her gut moment by moment as she waited for Grimshaw to open the door, she was glad he’d offered her a ride out of LA. She’d been sleeping on sofas and dating her way out of homelessness for nigh on a decade. Maybe the Midwest could be her first chance at building a space for herself.

Walking up to the house, Louise was overwhelmed with an amazing sense of relief. Dutch wouldn’t be hollering at her for another two months if she was lucky. She brought her hand up to knock on the door but before she could, she heard the knob turn and the door opened. Behind the door was her first surprise of the evening. A shockingly handsome man with sad ocean eyes and dishwater blonde hair peered down at her. He was at least 6 feet tall, not quite as tall as Dutch, and had broad shoulders. Not from excessive body building but from manual labor.

This wasn’t what she’d expected of the aforementioned Arthur. By Dutch’s standards he was one of his most productive employees turned acid casualty. Louise could only imagine the pressure he’d been under. So far the only indication of ‘acid casualty’ was the sad look in his eyes. The way Dutch described him had made him seem old. Burned out.

He had a mildly judgmental expression on his face as he observed her as well. “Dutch dump you off here too?” He mused rather than asked outright, narrowing those ocean eyes on her. He shook off the expression and invited Louise inside. “Alright, come on in.”

The interior of the house was a little jarring; dusty, dank, uncomfortable. The main room was filled with recording equipment that hadn’t been used in maybe five years. She followed Arthur toward some stairs, staying a little too close.

Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, Louise began digging in her bag. “I don’t know if ‘dumped’ is the most accurate word. I do have rent money for you.” She pulled the envelope full of cash from her bag and handed it to Arthur.

Arthur looked mildly displeased with her. He took the envelope to the kitchen and began digging around in the cabinets. Louise heard the buttons of a safe and a lock click open. Arthur placed the money in the safe without counting it. He also placed something heavy in there, presumably a hand gun she hadn’t seen on him when she came inside. Yikes. He shut the safe. She heard the lock click again.

Less than five minutes in the basement and Louise knew Arthur had been trapped here since late spring. It smelled of pot smoke and stale self hatred. Four empty beer cans rested on the table and by the lack of gnats, Louise surmised they were all from the night before. She wondered, without judgement, how many he’d drank before he got too lazy to start throwing cans away. “Dutch hasn’t stopped in to check on you once since the early summer?”

The basement was different than the main floors. It was clear the younger members of the gang had made it their own. Arthur and John were like brothers from what Louise could tell. They’d probably spent much of their adolescence down here. Arthur couldn’t be any more than 10 years John’s senior. There were posters on the walls and it appeared much more lived in. Most business was conducted in the kitchen. Louise saw the scale, dusty with keef, on the kitchen counter and the neat pile of baggies next to it.

“Not really my problem.” Arthur shrugged, stepping out from behind the kitchen counter. He must’ve seen Louise’s eyes resting on the beer cans because he went to tidy them up, never taking his eyes off hers as he crossed the room. Like he presumed himself to be some kind of prey animal. Louise always assumed that as her role. “Haven’t really taken any issue with his absence so far.” Louise could tell he was lying, but wasn’t sure why he’d feign distrust. “Not looking forward to when he comes back at the end of November.” That wasn’t a lie.

“I’m glad to not have him yelling in my ear at every hour of the night. He had me driving that damn bus for a week. I don’t even have a license!” Louise, against her better judgement, took the opportunity to complain.

“You let him do that to you? Never drive the bus. That’s been Grimshaw’s job for years. She’s the only one with a CDL. I bet she was ready to kill you when she found out.” Arthur lightened up a bit. He chuckled to himself as he threw the beer cans one by one in the small plastic trash bin in the kitchen.

“She doesn’t like me, no.” Louise smirked. It was true, Grimshaw did not like her. Louise assumed jealousy but the reality of the situation was that she’d been through the wringer with Dutch and she hated seeing it happen to anyone else.

“Yunno, you got me thinkin’” Arthur changed the subject, crossing back to sit on the sofa and click on the TV. He pulled his legs up onto the sofa and extended his hand with the remote to Louise, as if he was offering her a weapon of immense power. She smiled and sat down across from him, taking the remote. “Dutch hasn’t told me much since I had to duck out. For example, who you are. I haven’t heard a damn thing about you and now you’re in my house. He didn’t even have the nerve to call me.”

“What channels do you have?” Louise inquired, turning the remote over in her hand and getting comfortable on the sofa while she considered Arthur’s words.

“Darlin’, I sell pot out of the basement. We have all the channels.” He reached across the side table to where Louise was sitting on the loveseat and pressed the guide button on the remote she was holding. “The cable guy smokes just as much as you’d think.”

Louise was distracted momentarily by the options presented to her. “You taped Mr. Show?— I mean—“ she blinked a few times, trying to return to her previous thoughts. “Really? That’s pretty screwed up if you ask me. I don’t think he’s coming back to get me. At least I hope not. I’m sick of him.”

“You two dated?” Arthur seemed a little surprised. “I can see him losing his mind over someone like you. Can’t imagine you’d give him the time of day. You’re from the west coast, right?” His read wasn’t far off. “I’m sorry.” He shook his head, aware he’d said a bit too much.

“I’m afraid we’re still dating. I really couldn’t shake him but I managed to get him to drop me off here for the rest of the summer. I told him I was tired of going to shows. He told me if I could pay rent, he’d let me stay here until he came back in the winter. I think there’s more going on in his sick little peanut brain. But I just don’t want to consider what he has planned for when he comes back.” Louise took a big sigh and placed the remote on the coffee table without choosing something to watch. She didn’t want to talk about Dutch anymore. Still, she figured Arthur was owed an introduction as she was his new roommate. “I’m Louise, by the way. And for the record, I’m from the East coast. I’ve just lived out West for a while now. Certainly not by choice.”

Arthur smiled upon realization. “Oh, yeah. LA was never really my bag either, but Dutch loved shows there.” Arthur picked up the remote and pressed play on his DVR’d episode of Mr. Show. “You seem to know all there is to know about me, but I suppose I’m open for inquiries if you’ve got any.” Despite the offer, Arthur seemed shy.

“I’m really glad to be off the bus, honestly.” She smiled and looked to him, offering some comfort. “Maybe we could just smoke together? It seems pretty lonely down here.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Arthur grunted as he pushed himself off the sofa to retrieve the bong from the kitchen. “It’s a nice day. He loves the grassy knoll. Lee Harvey is out back.”

“What are you talking about?” Louise snorted.

“I’ll let em back in once we’re done smoking.” Arthur suggested, crossing the room with two handfuls of smoking paraphernalia. “He’s better than he sounds. Dutch is just bad at naming critters. Wait til you meet the cats. Named after the damn witches of Eastwick.”

Louise sat up in her seat when Arthur came back over to the living area. He began grinding up some pot.

“How’d you get out west?” He questioned her once the bong was packed. He offered her greens in exchange for the invasive question.

‘’My parents are wealthy, were wealthy. I haven’t spoken to them for years so it’s hard to say now. But I was lying in my bed one night, being a normal teenager, when two large men came up and blackbagged me and drove me out to Utah. It was one of those teen wilderness camps. Worst time of my life. Managed to get out and ended up stuck in LA for a while.” Louise wasn’t sure if the story was too much, but it was her truth and Arthur had asked. She wasn’t about to lie to him. What reason did she have?

“And you think the way Dutch treats me is fucked up? I’ve read about those places. Are you okay?” Arthur’s concern wasn’t unfounded. Louise was just long past ‘healing’ from it. It was like a bone that had been set incorrectly for years and to break it and reset it would cause more damage than leaving it how it rested. Too much scar tissue.

She took a big rip from the bong and teasingly exhaled toward Arthur. “At this point I’m just glad to have a roof over my head. It wasn’t easy avoiding homelessness in LA for the past 9 and a half years.”

“Doesn’t sound easy. I’m lucky I found Dutch when I did or else I would have ended up the same. But it seems like he’s willin’ to watch over you for now. Who knows what the world has in store. It’s good when someone has your back. Let’s just hope he holds up his end of the bargain. For both of us.” Arthur was muttering the last half of his statement like he didn’t want Louise to hear us. But she did.

“Cheers to that.” She passed the bong back to him and he copied her motion, cashing the bowl and placing it back on the table. He seemed like he was done talking when he crossed his arms over his broad chest and glanced toward the phone on the wall. Louise laughed at a joke on the TV.

Arthur got up and ran upstairs. Louise stayed watching Mr. Show until he came back with a big slobbery dog. The dog was probably some kind of pitbull mix with a smushed head. It looked at Louise for a while before it hopped up onto the sofa and sat in the other corner. It kept its misshaped eyes on her like Arthur had. “I think he smells Dutch on you. He’s tryna be respectful. Give him a pet if you want to make friends.”

Louise reached out to pet the dog, giving him a little scratch on his butt. His expression softened and his tail began to wag. He licked his chops and rested his head on his paws.

Arthur presented two miller high life’s and placing them on the table. Louise happily reached for hers. “What do you wanna eat for dinner? I have tons of frozen pizzas because I work for a delivery company on the side. Helps pushing the product for Dutch too. I try to keep a cashe for the winter. Jack likes them a lot.” Arthur seemed sad talking about Jack. He clearly itched to ask how the boy was doing.

“You’re sick of the frozen pizzas, do you want to go out?” Louise hesitated with her finger over the can tab.

“I’m waiting on a call. I’ll have to check how much I can spare.” Arthur was surprised. He wondered if this was allowed.

“Something warm, like burgers.” Louise suggested, pulling her legs up onto the sofa.

Arthur hummed at the thought of hot food that he didn’t have to prepare. “I don’t know. You got burger money?We’ll see what Dutch says when he calls me back.”

Louise was displeased at the thought of waiting on Dutch but she figured she could wait an hour or so for dinner.

The two of them watched television for about three hours before Dutch finally rang. Louise was half asleep and Lee Harvey had since jumped onto Arthur’s lap and was snoring. He was far too large to be considered a lap dog but Arthur didn’t seem to mind.

When the phone rang, Arthur shot up from the sofa, starling Lee Harvey who woke up with a bark and then calmed himself but followed Arthur to the phone.

“Hey, Dutch.” Arthur was clearly trying not to sound concerned. “What’s this about?”

There was a short pause. “Business is steady.” Arthur responded. Dutch was being guarded. “You think? I’ll give him a call if you say so.”

Louise tried to hear what Dutch was saying but she couldn’t.

“Dutch, I know. I’ll give him a call. But what about Louise? What am I gonna to do with her? Where does she sleep?” Arthur turned his back to Louise so she might not hear him. She still listened.

“What am I supposed to do with that?” Arthur was getting frustrated. Dutch had said something he didn’t like. There was another pause. “The kibble bag is getting real low, I don’t know.” he argued, Louise furrowed her brow. There was another pause. “Alright, Dutch. Sure.” Arthur hung up the phone.

“Burgers?” He suggested, crossing the room to the back of the kitchen counter where he grabbed the keys to his truck Louise had seen parked out front.

Louise smiled and pushed herself off the loveseat and crossed over to Arthur. “Sure,” she gently rested her fingers on his forearm which was warm to the touch. The hair on his arms was delightfully scratchy and Louise had to withdraw her hand.

Arthur looked a little shocked, maybe even frightened. His eyes lingered on where she’d touched him. “This ain’t any kinda date. Don’t think I’m payin’ your bill.” His eyes shot back up to hers.

“We already discussed this, Arthur.” She held her bag close to her side and pulled it up onto her chest to show him that it was there.

“Right.” He pulled the back door open and led Louise to the back yard thru the solarium. “Dutch wouldn’t even tell me where he wants you to sleep. I think he’s all worked up in one of his plans.” Arthur shook his head and grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the work table in the solarium.

Louise pondered, pulling the door open for Arthur while he placed a cigarette between his lips. Louise produced her own pack once they stepped outside and did the same. “I think he wants me to cheat on him.”

Arthur choked on cigarette smoke. She could tell a few different things had crossed the tip of his tongue but he settled on; “It’s only two months.”

“Two months is too long without sex.” Louise argued, puffing on her cigarette. “I’m not trying to be celibate.” She was very nonchalant about sex. It had been part of her survival for too long for her to treat the act with very much respect.

Arthur was obviously discomforted by this. “Celibacy does sound bad, but I don’t think that’s a good classification for two months without getting your dick wet.” He seemed a little bit self conscious.

“No, no. You’re right.” Louise shook her head. But she disagreed with him. He was wrong. Not getting laid for two months after having the worst sex of her life all summer was veritable torture. “Dutch is just,” she let out a big sigh as she reached for the door handle to Arthur’s truck and pulled it open. Arthur hopped in the drivers seat. “He’s just really bad in bed.”

“I don’t wanna know that, Louise.” Arthur looked even more uncomfortable than before, shaking his head in disgust as he put the key in the ignition.

The two of them ended up at the drive-in, in its last open days for the warm season. They dropped the subject of Dutch and joked around. Louise picked a CD from Arthur’s truck’s selection and Arthur suggested jobs she might could get in town. None of them involved sex work, which offered some comfort. LA wasn’t an easy place to wait tables, especially when a girl didn’t have a solid place to live or reliable transport.

“Red Lobster doesn’t sound bad. You think they’d like me with my original New England accent.” She giggled, dropping her west coast vocal mask as a joke.

Arthur didn’t laugh but looked on her in wonder. “Is that how you really talk?”

“It didn’t make me popular on the west coast so I dropped it real fast.” She was suddenly self conscious, her cheeks felt hot. She couldn’t find her valley girl voice again. Arthur looked like he’d been enchanted by something.

“I think it’s nice. You’re a good actor. How come you never went that route?” He joked back. Louise could tell it was a joke. She hoped he hadn’t noticed her blush and this wasn’t his attempt to quell her embarrassment.

“There are a million other homeless liars in LA. I’m nothin’ special.” She waved her hand to dismiss the subject.

The two of them made it back to the house safely. Arthur suggested she might take his truck to look for jobs around town while he went to his own job tomorrow. Louise agreed.

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