#farcrying

hurk drubman, jr x deputy maeve holly

@farcrying

Decided to draw Loreley “Scout” Reiser!

Summary: Arthur has a realization and has some fun fucking with John (SFW)

Author's notes: This is a gift for the amazing @farcrying for the @rdrevents winter exchange event! This ficlet features Scout, Farcrying's OC. She's an awesome character with a great backstory. I loved reading about her, and you can find more about her (and some gorgeous art!) over on Farcrying's Tumblr. I'm honoured to write her and hope I captured her essence well!

It was a quiet early afternoon that found Arthur Morgan with a rumbling stomach in the Rhodes General Store. He thumbed through various tin cans before pausing on a glass jar full of dried and salted venison. Glancing up revealed that the store clerk was totally absent, evidently still working to load up their wagon with their extensive order of camp provisions. The only other inhabitant in the room besides himself was one John Marston. With a soft clink of the jar’s lid, Arthur deftly slipped several pieces of jerky into his pocket. He was ready to wait away the remainder of the time until the clerk returned by perusing the store’s catalog when, somewhere behind him, John spoke.

“Hey, what do you think of Scout?” 

“She’s fine,” Arthur responded offhand.

“Mhm.” Where the answering noise might have sounded noncommittal, it instead sounded strained. That got Arthur’s attention. He put down the can of strawberries he’d been contemplating and looked at his companion. John studiously ignored Arthur’s attention, instead studying a woven display of garlic very intently. 

“Why you askin’?” Arthur asked, keeping his voice casual.

“No reason.” John still wasn’t looking at him. 

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. There was clearly a reason. Eventually, Arthur huffed a low breath. “She’s a good kid. Works hard, harder than she needs to.” His words were wary, and he didn’t bother to hide the warning note in his tone. Arthur was expecting the worst. Just two days ago Sean, of all people, had also asked him the same question. It had taken him aback, to say the least.

Of anyone likely to be distrustful, Arthur would not have even considered Sean. The man was an idiot, through and through. That the man was suspicious of Scout was even more concerning. Arthur had spent more time with her than possibly either John or Sean had since she’d arrived, and he would be more than happy to physically beat down anyone who doubted her worth and place in the gang. 

Scout Reiser had joined them several months back. Charles had found her lost and wandering in the Bluewater marsh. She’d nursed him through an untimely snake bite, and he’d taken pity and brought her back to camp. At first the girl had seemed like a bit of a lost puppy. She was shy, but had taken to quietly following both Charles and Arthur around like a second shadow. Scout was a hard worker, often taking over tasks before even being offered the chance to do so. Eventually she’d begun to speak up; first faltering and quiet, then more assertive and relaxed when the gang responded in kind. She was a crack shot with a rolling block rifle and wielded a light and friendly wit. A bit impulsive, sure, but that was nothing Arthur wasn’t already used to. 

He’d once caught her over his shoulder while he wrote in his journal, and he’d nearly tanned her hide before he’d realized she was intent on his drawings rather than his script. He’d still scolded her, but had felt so guilty at her obvious remorse that later he gifted her with her own journal some few weeks later. Together, he’d guided her through a couple of drawings, and she proved to be a bright, eager pupil. She’d never tried to look in his journal again after that, but Arthur didn’t think he would have minded so terribly if she had. He’d willingly take a bullet for her – a lot more willingly than he would for some of the other gang members, even – and he knew she’d do the same for him without hesitation. 

“Did you see something?” A asked gruffly. 

John’s brows furrowed momentarily. “See something..?”

When he looked up, Arthur was waiting for him, jaw set in warning. His expression seemed to clear up John’s apparent confusion, and he shook his head and attempted to clarify. 

“No, I didn’t see anything. Was just, wondering, ah..” His voice faltered and cracked awkwardly. To Arthur’s surprise, a blotchy blush began to rise in John’s face. The younger man turned his cheek and tugged the brim of his hat lower, but it was too late. 

“Oh,” Arthur said dumbly. “Oh.”

His mind whirred for a moment, clicking John’s sheepishness concerning the young woman into place. If John had it bad for the kid - well. Well. Arthur would have to think on that one. He was having a hard time wrapping his brain around the concept, but the concept of the two of them together didn’t necessarily strike him as a poor match. And if John was asking about Scout because he liked her, as bashful as a kid in a schoolyard, it was all too possible that Arthur had misconstrued Sean as well. If he’d missed that, he might have to reevaluate his judge of character. Either that, or concede to a stiff drink. 

John at least had some small iota of subtlety to his character. Even after years of enduring the younger man’s moods, John still managed to surprise him. But if he’d misread Sean… well, he really was a fool after all. There was nothing more to that man than a thin veneer of pretense, and that was on a good day. As far as Arthur was concerned, the soppy Irishman wore his heart on his sleeve as well as his liver, brain, and vocal chords. 

    John was staring at him nervously. Still wracking his mind, Arthur lifted his hand in what was supposed to be a placating gesture. If it came out stiffly, it was really John’s own fault for dumping this on him. 

But, an insidious voice inside Arthur whispered, it really shouldn’t have been a surprise, should it?

Arthur was saved from having to say something by the sound of the bell above the door pealing. The grocery clerk motioned to where their now-full cart waited outside, and Arthur nodded dumbly in thanks. John was close at his heels as Arthur made for the door. 

“Do you think she’s–” 

John’s question cut off abruptly with the swinging of the door behind them and the following flare of bright sunlight. Arthur blinked in the shade of his hat until the bright white shock faded, revealing their wagon and the woman in question. 

    “We ready?” the young woman called cheerily. Scout stood with the cart horses and was quick to wipe onto her pants the froth of horse spittle from her hands. The two horses were chewing, clearly preoccupied with whatever she’d managed to smuggle them. 

    Arthur granted his affirmation and she smiled. With the creak of new leather, she tossed the bridle she’d had slung over her shoulder into the backboard. Bits of hay were stuck to the front of her shirt, a dead giveaway to her visit to the stables while he and John had been in the general store. Scout turned and, in one fluid motion, pulled herself up and into the backboard. John was there just a breath later, uselessly and awkwardly reaching to guide her up. He dropped his arms before she could fully turn and shot Arthur a warning look when the snicker bubbling out of the older man nearly was voiced. 

    To hide his amusement, Arthur took to the spring seat. By the time he’d gathered the reins and clucked the horse team forward, John was sitting beside him on the narrow seat with rifle in hand. They were unlikely to need the firepower on the short trip back to camp, but the extra caution never hurt. Scout struck up a light chatter from the back and Arthur was happy for the moment to reflect, only half-listening to the ongoing conversation between the young woman and John.  

The air, while stale within the musty interior of the store, had been blessedly cool. It was a rarity in Lemoyne, and the sweaty collar of his shirt now resumed sticking uncomfortably to his skin. He scratched at it idly. 

It wasn’t so shocking, now that Arthur thought about it. She was a lovely woman, really. Small, yet necessarily dainty, and with a sweet and deceivingly naive-looking heart shaped face. She had a sharp tongue and a strong sense of justice, something Arthur had only fallen prey to once or twice before. But there was a softness in her eyes. A sort of gentleness wholly uncommon to their lifestyle. 

It was something Arthur had responded to with a certain protectiveness rather than with attraction. He’d never really viewed her that way, as a woman. He’d die for her, and happily smear anyone who hurt her into the mud, but it was impossible for him to view her as a prospective paramour. So impossible, in fact, that he apparently hadn’t noticed that two of his regular companions were likely head over heels for her. 

While Scout and John talked, Arthur watched. 

John’s hand gently steadied her elbow while she climbed into the wagon, and her returning touch lingered a bit too long to be anything but receptive. John’s voice was softer when he talked to her, softer than in any tone he’d used talking to anyone Arthur had ever seen, that’s for sure. Their interactions were markedly soft. Scout, while seemingly oblivious to John’s affections, responded subtly in kind. They leaned close as they talked as well. While Arthur might have otherwise pinned that on the motions of the wagons, now he picked up the unconscious movements the two made to touch each other. 

It was just fleeting, quick little gestures. If he’d blinked, Arthur would have missed each of them in turn. A hand unnecessarily braced on the seat backing, brushing her shoulder. A flirtatious push to John’s back following a vaguely suggestive joke. She was awkward with him, but really, they both were. Awkward in an endearing sort of way, like watching a newborn colt find it’s legs. Her faltering inexperience was obvious, but not nearly as obvious as John’s stumbling infatuation. Arthur felt something inside him soften and he smiled. He could have kicked himself for not noticing it earlier. 

He did kick himself when Scout struck up a quirley and the fragrant spin of tobacco smoke in the air reminded him that he’d meant to buy more rolling papers from the general store. That faltered his smile, but not for long. As they approached the hidden camp path, Arthur felt a sort of rude, viciously delighted satisfaction upon realizing that the guard on duty wore a kelly green bowler’s cap. In an uncharastically proactive action, Sean was quick to approach the wagon as they approached. 

“Who is it?” He called mockingly, grinning broadly. He had no eyes for John or Arthur, instead looking directly to Scout. Well, damn, Arthur smiled. Guess he owed himself a stiff drink after all. 

John opened his mouth, ready with a bitter retort, no doubt, but was cut off by Scout’s barked laughter.

“It’s me, dumbass!” she called with an exaggerated growling drawl. 

Arthur snorted at the imitation of his own voice, and Scout snickered. 

“Ah, it’s just English! Never mind me then, I’ll go’en leave yeh alone,” Sean scoffed glibly. In direct contrast to his words, he came close and propped his forearms over the side of the top box board. He leant there, as lean and as relaxed as a very satisfied cat. He grinned at Scout and pointedly ignored John’s growing scowl. Scout’s lit smoke was almost forgotten between her lips, more prop than anything, as she laughed at Sean’s eager attentions.

As delightful as it was to watch John’s foul mood bloom in front of his eyes, the scent of tobacco mixed with Arthur’s own neglected hunger made his mouth water. He didn’t want to miss this for anything. As the driver of the wagon, he fortunately didn’t have to, so long as John didn’t forcibly wrestle the reins from Arthur’s grip. He wouldn’t put it past him. As an added bonus, Sean seemed content to not move a muscle as Arthur blindly reached for the tobacco pouch buried somewhere deep in his satchel. Not finding it, Arthur turned away to dig. Upon finally extracting the leather pouch, he didn’t hesitate to pluck a pre-rolled smoke from the bag and to tuck it beneath his teeth. He looked up only to unexpectedly meet John’s dark, level gaze. 

“What?” Arthur asked. 

“I need one,” John growled. 

Arthur regarded John with a smirk. 

“C’mon now, ain’t we in good company?” he drawled.

John didn’t reply, instead snatching the bag from Arthur’s hands and pulling free a cigarette of his own. The action made Arthur bark out a loud laugh.  

    “What’s so funny?” Scout asked. Looking up, Arthur realized that his laughter had attracted the attention of both Scout and a mildly perturbed-looking Sean, clearly unhappy he’d lost her attention to Arthur. That only made Arthur grin wider. He just shook his head at Scout, dropping a forearm over the backseat of the springboard and leaning closer to the young woman. With a chuckle, he motioned to his own unlit smoke. 

“Scout, you gonna share that light?”

Scout eyed him with a smile, a little confused but ever good company.

“Sure, you out?” she asked. She shifted closer. 

“Somethin’ like that.” 

Casually, Arthur reached out and snatched the tobacco pouch back from John’s now slack grip. He stuffed it back into his satchel with an easy grin. Both Arthur and John knew that, within said pouch, there were easily a small handful of strike-anywhere matches. But John was silent and, to Arthur’s great amusement, slack-jawed as Scout leaned close and touched the red hot cherry of her smoke to Arthur’s. 

He could feel her breath as she inhaled sharply, flaring the tip of her cigarette into a bright, active spark. A curl of her honey-colored hair graced along the back of his hand as he cupped the light protectively. Arthur drew the burn in deep, savoring the feeling of the heat blooming down into his chest. A long exhale sent an appreciative plume of smoke spiralling away and above from their faces. When he finally pulled away, it was with a smirk. 

Scout smiled at him, still unwitting and oblivious to the source of Arthur’s ever growing delight. She’s even more confused when her eyes flick to Arthur’s right and she notes the outright scowl on John’s face. Sean’s dumbstruck look is barely any better. 

At that, Arthur merrily snapped the reins, driving the cart team into jolting down the path to camp. Sean nearly stumbled as the box board he was leaning on jerked away, but Arthur was pretty sure he was the only one who saw.

@falloutfandomeventhub Secret Santa for @farcrying of their Lone Wanderer, Aspen, and Dogmeat! You have a lovely LW I really enjoyed drawing them ;A; This is also my last art of 2020! I always seem to end up finishing something in the last few hours of the year, glad this got to be the piece