I keep having a reoccurring dream where we got two more missions in chapter six: one where Arthur and Charles go camping after rescuing Eagle Flies so things can calm down before heading back to camp, where we learn more about Charles’ past and he plays the harmonica for Arthur, and one where Arthur goes to check on Charles after he leaves the gang to help the Wapiti tribe pack and move. I’ve decided to write a short Drabble about those two missions so we get the good Charthur content (I’ll also be drawing a part of the dream that has stuck with me since I first had it):
Arthur lain slumbed against the rock by the riverside, his chest rising and falling as he pushed out strangled breaths. Charles turned to look at him as he helped Eagle Flies onto the horse of the soldier that was killed in their gun fight.
“Arthur...” Charles called as his eyes softened. Arthur looked to Charles in response, not speaking as to keep breathing. “Come with me... It’s not safe for me to leave you here.”
Arthur nodded his head and spit blood onto the grass next to his foot. “You’re right...” he replied as his voice cracked. He was dying, and he knew it. But he had to hold on. He hadn’t finished what needed to be done just yet.
He stood up and climbed onto the other horse by the riverbank, and accompanied Charles back to Wapiti. Rains Fall had been waiting for them. The old man took his son from the horse, and quickly brought him into his tent to tend to his wounds. Charles glanced at Arthur, who’s coughing had died down a little.
“We...” Charles hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. He really wanted Arthur to catch his breath and relax for a moment, instead of riding back to camp, and taking on the next challenge that would cut his life even shorter than it is now. “We should camp for a few days. Patrols will be out looking for us, we need to stay away from camp.”
“Of course... You’re right, as always,” Arthur smiled at him, before climbing onto his horse, “Where should we go?”
“I know a little place in the mountains,” Charles replied as he climbed onto Tiama, who had followe him up to the reservation, “It’s well hidden, and far enough away from camp and Wapiti in case anyone comes looking.”
“C’mon then, lead the way.” Arthur said as he waited for Charles to start moving.
The two of them rode to a small meadow, hidden in the Grizzlies. It was surrounded by forest, giving them good cover, and the small clearing was big enough for them both to pitch their tents. Charles managed to convince Arthur to let him set everything up, saying something about how Arthur needs to keep lookout in case a patrol came by.
Charles finished setting up the fire and brushed his hands together, getting the dirt off. “Okay, I think we’re done here,” he said as he sat in his tent. Arthur stumbled into his and looked at Charles.
“...What now?” He asked, looking to the other man.
“What’d you mean?” Charles responded.
“I mean, what do we do now? Just... sit and wait?”
“I suppose so,” Charles replied as he pulled out his harmonica, “I could always play a song, that always passes time.”
“Go ahead,” Arthur responded as he pulled out his journL and began sketching wildlife around them. Charles blew into the harmonica, playing Blow the Man Down as the sun set in the distance. Arthur watched him and began to sketch him playing.
“You’re a mighty fine player,” Arthur complimented as Charles finished his song.
“And you’re a mighty fine artist,” Charles replied to him, returning the compliment.
“Oh, I ain’t that good,” Arthur deflected before turning the conversation back to Charles, “Hey, where’d you even learn to play like that, anyhow?” He asked as he shut his journal.
“My father taught me when I was a boy, before my mother passed away,” Charles responded as he looked at the harmonica, “He was a damn good player. Better than I could ever be.”
“I don’t hear you talk about your past, much...”
“I tend to not. Feels too.. personal to talk about with the gang, if that makes any sense.”
“Then why’re you tellin it to me?”
“I... I ain’t sure...” Charles looked at Arthur with puzzled eyes. The two sat in silence for a moment, before Charles looked away and started playing again, and kept playing long into the night.
~~~~~~~~~
It had been about a week since Charles left to help the Wapiti Tribe move, and everything had already gone to shit back home. Everyone was at each other’s throats. You could cut the tension with a knife. Arthur had grown sick of it, even sicker than he actually was. Dutch kept badgering him about everything, sayin he “needed him to stick around in case somethin happened,” whatever the hell that meant. One night, Arthur managed to sneak out while the old man was asleep. He rode to Wapiti, where he saw one of the saddest sights in his life.
Everyone looked so heart broken. Their prince had died, like he wanted, but at what cost? The old were weak, and struggling to pack their belongings. Those who were still young were sick, but still trying to help their elders. One man stood out among the lot of sad faces. Charles Smith, a man who was still strong and healthy, was doing the work that the others couldn’t do. A small smile appeared on Arthur’s face as he saw him.
“Always the busiest man in camp,” Arthur said as he approached Charles from behind. Charles spun around and smiled at him.
“Oh, Arthur, am I glad to see you,” he replied as he pulled Arthur into an unexpected hug, “Things aren’t going well. I’ve been fending off the army as best I can, but they’re angry. They’re holding the attack against all the Indians, even the ones that didn’t fight.”
“I’m sorry to hear that...” Arthur mumbles as he kicked at the dirt, “Is there.. anything I can do to help?”
“Just... help them all get packed up. If you could escort us to the border, I’d really appreciate that.”
Arthur nodded, and got to work helping Charles with everything. After everything was packed, they began to move further north, towards Canada. It was the safest place they could think of at this time, and it seemed like the tribe would adjust well there.
Halfway up, a large storm caught the tribe. Arthur and Charles managed to find a small town, similar to Colter, where everyone could hide. After getting everyone safe, Arthur and Charles stumbled into an abandoned cottage on the outside of the town.
Arthur stumbled to his knees, coughing and spitting up blood. The cold, wet environment wasn’t helping him in the slightest. Charles watched, a small pain jerking at his heart. He knelt down next to him and placed his hand on his back, looking over at him with worried eyes.
“Arthur... Arthur, are you alright?” He called to the other man as he rubbed his back.
“I-I’m time... just... just give me a minute...” Arthur cleared his throat and spit blood onto the old wooden floor of the cabin, before groaning and shakily rising to his feet.
Charles stood with him, looking at him with fear and worry. Arthur looked back and groaned. “Don’t look at me like that Charles, I’m fine!” He yelled.
“Just rest, Arthur... it’ll be okay...” Charles took his hand and led him to a pair of old chairs lying strewn about on the floor. He lifted them both into place and sat Arthur down, who begrudgingly complied.
“I shouldn’t have asked you to come with me...” Charles mumbled, “This snow isn’t good for you...”
“I said I’m fine, goddammit!” Arthur yelled as he began coughing again. Charles placed his hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes,.
“No, you’re not...” Charles said to him as he peered into his soul. Arthur sighed and hung his head, not wanting to look into his sad, dark eyes. “You can say you need help, Arthur... You don’t have to keep doing everything alone.”
“I just... I feel like-” Arthur sighed and stared at the ground, still holding onto Charles’ hand, “I feel like I have to do this alone. I have to save everyone alone, to make up for all the horrible things I’ve done...”
“Oh, Arthur... You don’t have to. Even I ask for help...” Charles reassured him, “I asked you for help...”
Arthur looked back at Charles, admiring all his features. He was beautiful, inside and out. “Charles, there’s something I need to tell you before I go...” he started, before choking on either blood or tears, “I-I...”
Charles shushed him gently and squeezed his hand. “I know, I know...” he paused for a moment and sighed, “I feel the same way too...” he smiled at Arthur gently.
Arthur felt a burning sensation in his throat, as if going to cry. He smiled back, and gently touched his forehead with Charles’. Charles took his hand and raised it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles tenderly. They held each other throughout the storm, not speaking, but simply enjoying each other’s silence. And for just a few moments, their problems didn’t seem to matter as much as they did before.