![]() It comes as a surprise when Arthur asks if you would be so kind as to accompany him to the Saint Denis. Arthur doesn’t consider himself eloquent like all those fancy romance novelists, but he thinks you feel like home. Your embrace bridges the gap between you, making him feel like he was never really gone at all. When you hear the rhythm of his horse trotting into camp you are there to greet him with a warm smile, like clockwork. His basis for comparison isn’t vast, but he considers himself lucky whenever he catches an earful of the caterwauling Molly directs at Dutch most evenings. You never complain, even when he is gone for weeks at a time. Patience is a virtue, and you are the human embodiment of that sentiment. There aren’t enough hours in the day he can give to you, but he tries his best despite that shortcoming. On occasion it’s both.īut when he finds himself with a moment of time to call his own, he uses the luxury of choice to spend it with you. Though he bears these burdens (as always) with a slight gruff and a spur of his horse as he goes wherever he is needed or told. I’m back on my yeehaw bullshit baybee! Find on AO3!Įscapes don’t come often for Arthur - the weight of others’ expectations fall heavy on his already bad shoulders.
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