The Gilded Cage ? rdr2

┌─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───┐
"ωє ¢αи'т ¢нαиgє ωнαт'ѕ ∂σиє, ωє ¢αи σиℓу мσνє σи."
└─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───┘

Arthur held the letter in his hands, running his fingers across the inked words of Mary Gillis. The summer breeze blew through his tent, the paper flapping against it, along with his hair, in desperate need of a trim. He stuffed the paper in his pocket, running a hand across his face and scratching his short beard. The slight wrinkles under his eyes and at the corners of his lips showed his age, but his eyes still shown the bright blue of his youth.

The man, now in his thirties, watched the sun rise over the trees from Horseshoe Overlook, his feet dangling over the edge. Up here, he felt comfortable, calm. Being close to death, always on edge, was where he felt the most normal. On the edge of a cliff, anything felt possible, and from a distance, he could make anything look as he wanted it too. Mary Gillis, he could almost see her, if he looked hard enough. The curve of her expensive dress, the drifting of her hair as if it were dancing in the wind, the storm she had made of his life.

An absolute disaster.

Arthur.

He could almost hear her voice in the words of the letter, worded so elegantly and, as much as he wished it wasn't, with the intention of manipulating him. And, as always, just at the end, just the right words to pull him in.

P.S. I've met someone that you and your associates may find of interest.
Love, Mary

Arthur's heart almost sputtered, and he scoffed, lifting himself up from the cliff before making his way back into camp toward his wagon. Time and time again, after years of being apart, his still awed after the same woman who had hurt him a hundred times over. After all this time, here she was, in need and Arthur at her beck and call. He could ignore her, he knew, ignore the letter and pray he didn't run into Mary in Valentine. Arthur wasn't that kind of man though, one to behave childish based on things that had happened because of immaturity on both of their parts.

Arthur stood from the cliff, making his way over to Pearson's tent to pour himself some coffee, standing beside Abigail and Ms.Grimshaw. Abigail remained quiet, seeming to stare off back at her tent where Jack slept, lost in thought. Ms.Grimshaw though, met Arthur's gaze with a raised brow. "I saw that letter from that Mary Gillis, left it at your tent Arthur." Arthur nodded, looking away, causing Ms.Grimshaw to scowl harder, huffing. "Well, boy what did it say? Are you gonna go running off again like a puppy after her?" It was then Arthur's turn to scowl, and he scoffed at Ms.Grimshaw's bluntness.

"Well, Ms.Grimshaw, if it's that important that you're informed," Arthur started, a smile on his face and humor in his tone, "-I'm going into town as it is, and it seems to be for business, she claims to have some information for us, or somethin'." Ms.Grimshaw only shook her head, sipping at her pipping cup of coffee. "That girl has always had you wrapped around her finger Arthur, no matter if you believe it or not. I knew it, Dutch and Hosea knew it, Cassie-" The woman halted, recognizing her mistake, and Arthur's heart twisted. "Well that girl always knew everything when it came to you I'm afraid." Mrs.Grimshaw looked down at the ground, before taking her leave, walking across camp to her tent.

Arthur disposed of his mug, before hastily making his way over to his horse, the old shire from Hosea that he had decided to keep, pushing away all thoughts of the painful past he worked so hard to keep buried. He mounted the horse, Wilhelm, before quickly making his way out of camp, unaware of the guilty eyes of Ms.Grimshaw watching him leave.