dad!arthur who you visit on tour with your lil toddler, he's carrying him round the venue on his hip, pointing out literally everything, ‘those are our sound engineers, that’s the lighting booth, that’s mummy over there say hi to mummy’.
you make a baby-size version of his merch and surprise him with your son wearing it and he just melts, one, because it's the cutest thing he's ever seen and two, because he's so in love with you. you do so much for him and still find time to make him feel extra special he's obsessed with you.
baby getting in the way of sound check but no one minding at all as he toddles on to the stage, getting him to speak into the mic to test levels instead.
so many photos of you all! professional ones, late night blurry ones, photobooth ones where you're both kissing one of baby's cheeks as he giggles in the middle.
travel cot in the green room for baby's naps. catching arthur stood just watching his son sleep, hand on his tummy, misses him so much when he's away that he can't help but keep hold of him whenever he can.
coming back to the bus after a show, seeing baby passed out in his pjs, you waiting with a cup of tea, all cosy despite the chaos of touring, so happy to have his home with him for a while on tour.
dedicates each show to you ‘couldn't be here today without her and would not be the man I am if not for her’.
so besotted with his family, sees you walking round the baby, speaking to the band who are all precious with your son, let him try and play ther instruments, feels like his heart could burst. his phone background is a photo of baby sat on your lap in front of a drum kit.
constantly inspired by you and scribbling down lyric ideas. also has voice notes of baby saved for a song, sent while touring, ‘love you daddy' 'see ya wouldn't wanna be ya!’.
when you have to go home he’s heartbroken, tries to hold it in for baby so he's not upset but is devastated when you’ve gone.
when he gets home he hugs you both so tight and doesn’t let go for so long, even when baby's attention span runs out and he fidgets. arthur insists on all of you sleeping in the same room that first night back and spends most of the night wide awake, watching you both sleep, so grateful to be home.
Details: Age Difference, Romance, Minor Character Death, Meddling Kids, Dating Apps, Falling In Love, Finding Love, Babysitting, Mutual Pining, Pining!Arthur, Pining!Merlin, Babysitter!Merlin, Dad!Arthur, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Modern AU, Modern Setting.
Summary: When widower Arthur Pendragon finds out that his three children have conspired to help him find 'someone to kiss' by placing an ad on an internet dating site, he allows his guilt to push him into agreeing to go on a succession of dates even though he's determined that he's not lonely and doesn't believe in 'love'. However, someone does set his heart racing, but it's not one of the endless parade of beautiful women he has to choose from, it's the children's new babysitter, Merlin.
One (1) person ( @crowtrobotx ) showed interest a single time in this and they’re one of my besties so of course I’m going to shamelessly put it on display and make it everyone’s problem. Also I have no paternal relationship so I’m sorry if this feels weird or stilted.
DANCING QUEEN
Relationship(s): Father/Daughter, Dad!Arthur Morgan x OC Daughter
Tags: Fluff, canon divergence (Arthur ain’t dead), horse girl Arthur Morgan, Arthur gets to be a dad
Content Warnings: None, unless a daughter referring to her father as “Daddy” or Arthur using petnames for his kid (honey, sweetpea, etc.) makes your skin crawl.
Wordcount: About 1300
From the day his little girl pointed at the prancing show horses and gasped, “Daddy, I want to do that,” Arthur Morgan knew he was in for a long road of butting heads with high society without firing a single shot. He’d gone to that show to suss out what kind of horse Jane Morgan got on with best, anyway, but he hadn’t expected getting in the market for something so fancy. Dressage was a rich-people sport and required more than a Tennessee Walker or a paint like he’d anticipated.
Arthur found a Hanoverian breeder at that show, went to take a look at his yearlings, then brought one home for his Jane. A deep bay with long legs, white feet, and a blaze from nose to forelock, Jane promptly christened him Dancer.
By God, Arthur loved teaching her how to ride. Jane began confident where most kids clung to shyness - even Jack. Basics came fast. She flew around the meadow with her long, chestnut braid streaming behind her like Dancer’s tail, her sky-blue eyes dark and small against the breadth of her grin. Her hat kept the touch of the sun from adding to the spray of freckles over her face. Riding was the one time she wore trousers instead of one of her fancy dresses.
When she was a little older and Arthur was a little more rehearsed in dressage, she really tried to keep her movements elegant. She took her form seriously, though her commands came too gentle for her mount to listen. No balance between direction and imperceptibility. The first time Arthur tried to correct her, she’d gasped so loud that he immediately felt bad for saying anything at all.
“But Daddy!” she protested; he loved the way she said it, with the flowery affect that came from the highfalutin city ladies. “I couldn’t possibly be so harsh on Dancer!”
Which made Arthur laugh; Dancer probably had the envy of all of the old horses Arthur kept stabled from his rougher years, the ones who’d had to ride through shootouts and explosions and God recollected what else. He would never know harshness.
Arthur patted Dancer’s long neck. “Not at all, darlin’. But he’s a big fella with a little lady on his back. You have to try a little harder to get his attention is all.”
The tiniest pout plumped up Jane’s lower lip, but she wasn’t one for whining or tantrums. That besides, little lady was his magic mollifying phrase ever since she was old enough to understand what grown-ups were talking about. Jane took a deep breath, and gathered her usual serenity with a tiny nod. Dancer set off at a walk. Arthur caught his daughter’s lips moving, counting the beats of her horse’s gait.
He knew she was already trying to figure out how to make a horse waltz.
Unfortunately, Jane’s natural calm didn’t preclude her from perfectionism. He asked her if she wanted to register with a young ladies’ meet when she was twelve. She shook her head and said no, her transitions weren’t ready. Maybe next time. Six months later, Dancer was favoring one of his legs. She couldn’t put him through a competition in that condition! Every time Arthur pointed out another show coming up, regardless of how small it might be, Jane turned him down. She said she wasn’t ready.
He trusted her to know when the time was right, but Arthur always hugged her a little extra tight and put a little more emphasis on her highlights.
The first time he’d ever held her in his arms, he knew he had to shelter her from the ugliness of the world. By and large, he’d done that. Oh, she’d heard the stories of what he’d done in the van der Linde gang, but she’d always treated them like more of her favorite fairy tales. The Wild Swans, Rapunzel, Daddy the Outlaw. For her sake, he’d gone stra-
…. He’d changed direction.
The feds weren’t after him, anyway.
His princess deserved better than what he’d been doing.
It became his mantra over the years, once Jane turned sixteen and began riding with other ladies. Arthur stood at the fence for her first competition, near the other horse trainers hired for the well-to-dos, very aware of the wealthy merchants and bankers and socialites staring and whispering from their seats. He let Jane pick out a nice outfit for him - a smart blue shirt that he ended up rolling to the elbow, a black silk vest, matching pants - but everyone could spot an old, weather-beaten outlaw a mile away. The handlers didn’t pay him so much mind, he resembled them more than anyone else. One of the orchestra members even asked which girl was his student when he handed in Jane’s set.
“Number three,” he’d replied, grinning. “This is one of her favorite songs.”
As the competition began, he watched the first young lady on his way back; she handled a prettily-dappled Holsteiner to a classical piece Arthur might’ve heard at one of the concerts Jane’s mother used to drag him to back in the day. An announcer reminded the crowd that this girl was last year’s previous winner and had titled her mare in the interim. She had the touch of someone who’d trained for a long time. Good work. Jane was better.
But when he glanced over at the gate where his daughter waited, separated from the general crowd to keep the horse calm and prevent the riders from stealing peeks at one another’s routines, he saw her sitting too stiffly in the saddle and worrying the braided reins in her hands. The rest of her was perfectly presented from head to toe, from the top hat she chose with the brim a little wider than the others to prevent sunburn to the immaculately cut and kept riding jacket. She was just still as a statue and looked ready to crack.
“What’s wrong, honey?” he asked, careful to approach Dancer from a distance; if he touched that brushed-to-a-shimmer coat that Jane had worked so hard on before they went on, she’d get upset.
More than she already was. He saw her painted pink lips moving as if she fought the urge to chew on them. Funnily, seeing her anxious for once made her resemble her mother more than usual.
“I’m alrighty, Daddy,” said Jane, plastering on an affectionate smile just for him. “I… I know winning isn’t everything, but I do hope to at least perform well.”
Arthur squeezed her hands and said, “Hey, you’ve got nothin’ to be worried about, okay? You ‘n Dancer have been workin’ together for years with twice the skill as the rest of these girls. And ain’t none of the others look as smart and ready for their turn as you do.” Which, truth be told, Arthur had worried about in the beginning; Jane had a knack and an artist’s temperament when it came to how she - and, by extension, Dancer - looked, which might have caused problems if she hadn’t also put in the same dedication to the actual riding. “Besides, you’re a Morgan. We’re so good with horses, we got a whole breed named after us. You’re gonna knock ‘em dead, sweetpea.”
The first few notes of Jane’s “Stardust” score strummed out on a guitar. The announcer called her name and number, as well as Dancer’s. Jane closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then relaxed when she released it. Her hand briefly dropped the rein to squeeze him back. “Thanks,” she whispered. “I love you, Daddy.”
“Love you, too.”
She blew him a small kiss, then turned around in her saddle and straightened out her posture. Dancer picked up his hooves and found the beat of the song without her moving a muscle. Arthur followed and stopped at the gate, propping up a foot on the lowest rail, and leaned forward. He’d never seen a horse do a foxtrot before. The way Dancer seemed to barely touch the ground, he knew Jane belonged in a ballroom like a proper princess.
Updated 7.10.2022
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BOLD IS NEW CONTENT
Arthur Morgan
Oneshots
-Goodbye Kisses
-In the Lamplight
-A Soft Heart, A Sweet Soul
-A Favor For A Favor
-Daisies
-Play For Me
-Aftermath
-Protector
-One Hit Wonder
-Rare Mornings
-Bigger Things
-Agreeable
-To Be In Your Arms
-Defender, Protector, Keeper
-A Little Game*
-A Conversation In The Night
-More Take Than Give
-Let It Be
-Loyalty and Liabilities
-Intuition
-A Relaxing Evening*
-Captive
Series
dad!Arthur mini-series (in chronological order)
-Memories That Remain
-Unlikely Choice
-Baby Steps
-There Comes Bad News
-Trouble Arises
-A Reunion of Sorts
-Hardships of the Past
mom!reader x Arthur (w/ mute!Ben)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11
In The Woods Somewhere (Arthur x witch!reader)
Part 1 | Part 2
Omg, Arthur Morgan finding a young girl and taking her in as his own? I need some Dad! Arthur!!
Awe yes! Dad! Arthur kills me every time I see it! Thank you for asking! ❤
Days like today are what make Arthur think back to the first day he had met his kid.
Days that are dreary, but thought provoking. When he can sit and listen to the wind and look out among the people he called family
Times like these allows him to think back on all that has gone down.
Oh, how a bad situation ended up finally going well for once in his life.
Arthur had heard the girl before he had seen her. The scared cries and screams coming from the interior of the small homestead outside of the Emerald Ranch area.
He had been on a run for Leopold Strauss to collect a debt due when he had encountered the noises coming from the home.
Apparently the man who carried a debt was also in debt to others, and he didn't have enough to pay them back as well.
When he threw open the door, he saw the corpse of the man who owed the debt, and then he saw the girl who struggled against strong hands and kicked at grabbing motions.
Obviously since the debt wasn't enough, and the mans death didn't cover it, the child was next.
And this sent Arthur into a blur as he threw the men off and away from the smaller form.
When his fist collided in blind rage, bone breaking beneath his knuckles and blood running down the faces of the men he beat on until they laid either unconscious or dead.
He couldn't recall which they were, but he knew they were not getting back up any time soon.
The girl shrunk back from him, the evident fear in her gaze making him try to soften his features and become nearly friendly. His attempts at losing the scowl and rage didn't matter much, as he had blood on him and he became just as scary as the men before.
"Shh. Shh. I ain't gonna hurt ya. You okay, sweetheart?" He tried the term with a bit of strain, hoping it would calm the younger at least a tad.
Her small nod and slouch of her shoulders gave way to a near sense of cautious calm. She didn't know this man, didn't know why he was here or why he had beaten up the men trying to take her, but he saved her. At least she hoped.
"Alright. Look, do have any family I can take ya to? Someone to look after you?" He watched when she pointed to the man on the ground, the man who owed the debt and the shake of her head.
He also noticed the tremble in her hand and the on-set of new tears as realisation hit.
Arthur wasn't good with tears, never had been. It's one of the many things that made him an awkward man.
But he came close enough to wipe them away and do his best in calming the child.
It takes some deciding as he wraps the girl in his coat to figure out what to do with her.
He still had to have the debt payed, but bringing the girl along meant danger and another mouth to feed.
Ultimately he decided to take her with him, to keep her. Not that there weren't protest from some of the gang. But nothing that wasn't resolved with time.
From that day on they started refering to her as his kid.
From the way he taught her how to shoot down to fishing and trying to be just like him.
She was his.
He remembers those days after finding her fondly, owning up to now being the caretaker and ultimately father of this kid.
And as he lays, looking over at her cot across his tent, thinking about how she's grown over the years since he took her in, he could say he's mighty damn proud.
Nothing like having another Morgan running around the camp to stir up trouble.
A/N: I know the techniques used in this story are wrong and should not be used I.E. using a male companion goat for a foal as they can be aggressive towards the foal, but this is purely fictional so just ignore it! Max is a part of the family and he is there for comedic relief! This is not for informational use! This is entertainment only!
Warnings: None! just fluffy!
This is a part 2 to Unlikely Choice which is here! But it’s also sort of a part of the dad!Arthur series I’ve unintentionally started....
***
The feeling of someone brushing their fingers over your hair woke you up.
“Mornin’, pumpkin.” Arthur’s voice came from your left. He was laying on his side facing you, keeping himself occupied while you slept.
He had been up for a while now. His struggles of sleeping had followed him from his life as an outlaw. He was lucky to get four hours some nights.
“Mhmm.” You turned over to face him, keeping your eyes shut. You were still half asleep and you didn’t mind staying that way.
“You goin’ back to sleep on me?” He chuckled softly, propping himself up on one elbow.
“If you don’t mind, Mr. Morgan.”
“Well I do mind, Mrs. Morgan.” Arthur dipped his head down to kiss your forehead. “I’ve been up for a while now. Been thinkin’ about a lot. I don’t wanna think anymore. I need you to distract me.”
You sighed, opening your eyes to see him looking down at you.
“A distraction, huh?”
“That would be appreciated.” There was a teasing glint in his blue eyes.
“I’m sure it would.” You giggled. “What’s been goin’ through that head of yours?”
You reached up to brush his hair back. The blonde strands were getting a bit long and fell across his forehead. He’d need a haircut soon.
“Little of this…. A lotta that.” He laid back on the bed, eyes finding the ceiling.
You scooted as close to him as you could get and put your head on his shoulder.
“Thinkin’ about how I’ve gotta fix the floorboards to the hayloft. They ain’t safe and I don’t want Daisy gettin’ hurt.”
“You can’t do that by yourself, can you?”
“Nah. I’ll need a couple extra hands.”
“I can help. Whatever I can’t help with, I’m sure Charles would be more than willing to come over and lend a hand.”
“Of course.” Arthur’s hand found the small of your back. “Also been thinkin’ bout a couple other odds and ends around here I gotta fix up.”
You looked up at him, sensing that there was something else, something he wasn’t saying.
“Anything botherin’ you?”
“Nothin’ you gotta worry about, pumpkin.” Arthur shook his head.
“Well I’ll worry more if you don’t tell me.”
Arthur was quiet for a few moments, lips pressed together in a firm line.
You sat up and leaned back on one hand. You placed your hand over his heart, brows drawing together. He put his hand on yours, giving you a little squeeze.
“I don’t want to have to worry so much about you both.” His voice was quiet. “This is our home. Don’t like feeling like we aren’t safe.”
“You’re still thinking about Micah, aren’t you?”
He sat up against the headboard.
“Arthur, last we heard he was in Reno. We don’t gotta worry about him until we hear he’s closer.”
“I don’t want him any closer than Reno. Last we heard that was a few months ago.”
You looked down at the blanket that covered your legs. You smoothed out the material.
“Just…. Just want to be able to raise Daisy and any others we might have without him loomin’ over my head.” Arthur ran his hand over his face.
“You want more?” You asked, your voice quiet as your eyes flickered up to meet his.
“Well…. I think it would be nice to try for one more, if you want. Only if you want.”
You moved around to straddle his thighs.
“Daisy’s just…. She’s a dream, pumpkin.” Arthur placed his hands on your hips. “Still is. Sweet girl.”
“She’s definitely daddy’s girl.”
He smiled proudly.
“Hey, maybe we could have a boy?” He suggested, blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “Even it out a little. One for you, one for me. I think it’d be nice.”
“Sure would be nice, but we don’t get to pick.”
“I know.” He nodded. His thumb on your hip began to trace circles in the material of your chemise. “Whatever we’d have, I’d love ‘em the same. Another girl would be cute too.”
“You’re adorable.” You leaned in to kiss his lips but just before you could kiss him, there was a knock on the door.
“Mommy? Daddy?”
Arthur let out a soft sigh, moving his hands from your hips so that you could remove yourself from his lap. You settled on the bed next to him, leaning against his shoulder.
“Come on in, sweetpea.”
The door opened and Daisy walked in. Carson slipped past her, jumping up onto the bed. Arthur gave him a pat on the shoulder.
“Good boy, Carson.”
“Good morning, sleepy head.” You greeted Daisy with a smile. “It’s a little early for you to be up, hon.”
“I want to go out to the barn.” She climbed up onto the bed and clambered across your legs.
“Oh, I reckon it’s far too early to go to the barn.” Arthur teased her.
“Nuh-uh! You and Papa Hosea are always up early and outside in the barn!”
“What are you so eager to go out to the barn for anyways?” He brushed a few pieces of her hair back behind her ear.
“I wanna see my horse.” She admitted bashfully.
Ohhh. I see.” Arthur nodded. “Well, why don’t you give me and momma here a few minutes to get out of bed and get dressed. Is Papa Hosea up?”
“Yeah he is. He’s out on the porch.”
“Go on out there with him. Have him take you to the barn while I get up.”
“Okay, daddy!”
Daisy was off of the bed and dashing out of the door in the blink of an eye. Carson was right behind her, eager to start the day.
“Today is a busy day, Arthur Morgan.” You patted his thigh before getting out of bed. “John and Abigail should be here with the kids before noon. I was thinkin’ of invitin’ Charles and Lucy over too.”
“Of course.” Arthur nodded his head. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed his face. “Hey, pumpkin?”
“Yes, my love?” You turned to look at him.
“You know I love you, don’t ya?”
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips.
“I know. You gave me a baby girl and this beautiful house.” You moved around the bed to stand between his legs. “Love you too, you know.” Your arms slipped around his neck. His hands brushed along your thighs as he smiled up at you.
“Wouldn’t have her without you.” He leaned forward to kiss your stomach.
“You’re feelin’ awfully sweet this morning.” You brushed your fingers through his hair. “Anything else on your mind, cowboy?”
“Just my girls.”
***
Arthur kept his hand on the small of your back as he walked you out to the barn.
“Hey, you think we should get Hosea a mule when Silver Dollar finally croaks?” He teased as he pushed the barn door open with his shoulder.
“Don’t you be talkin’ crass about my horse, Arthur Morgan.” Hosea spoke from where he sat in the barn. He was on a stool outside of the stall Daisy’s horse was in. Daisy was on her knees at the bottom of the stall reaching through the bottom of the fence so she could pet the foal.
“I didn’t expect you to hear me, old man.”
“Silver Dollar’s outlived a lotta things.” You looked over to Arthur, giving him a little smile. “Doubt he’s gonna go anytime soon.”
“When he does, I’m not gettin’ another horse.” Hosea shook his head. Almost as if happy about his owner’s statement, the Turkoman at the end stall whinnied and stuck his head over the stall door.
“Then how the hell are you gonna get around?” Arthur moved to greet Silver Dollar. “Hey, boy.”
“I’ll figure it out when the time comes. But you know what I am gonna do? I’m gonna invest in sheep.”
“Sheep?” Arthur repeated. “Don’t we go enough of those?”
While they carried on their conversation, you moved towards Daisy.
“Have you picked out a name yet, Daisy?”
“Haven’t thought of one.” She frowned, rubbing along the filly’s back.
“Come on. Let’s go in and keep her company.” You opened up the stall and walked in.
Daisy followed behind you, sitting down in the straw beside the filly.
“Well, does she like anything? Any treats you give her?”
“She likes the carrot pieces we gave her last night.”
“Really liked them.” Arthur leaned over the stall, folding his arms along the top as he looked down at you both. “Carrot’s a cute name, ain’t it sweetpea?”
“It’s a silly name.”
“Yeah. But hey, it’d fit right in with what I call you and momma.” He chuckled. “Sweetpea, pumpkin, and Carrot.”
“You’re silly!”
“What names do you like, Daisy?” You asked her, reaching out to pull a piece of straw from her hair.
“I don’t know.”
“Well what name do you got in your head, silly?” Arthur reached down to ruffle her hair.
Daisy giggled again, reaching up to grab his hand.
“In that storybook momma read me the other night, there was a girl named Piper in it.”
“Piper, huh? Piper is a neat name.”
“I like that name.” You looked down at the filly and rubbed her nose. “I think she’s a pretty girl.”
“You think she could be a Piper?” Daisy asked.
“Oh, definitely. Don’t you think the same, daddy?” You looked up at Arthur.
“Piper suits her well.”
“Now only if we could get the damn thing to walk.” Hosea muttered from his seat. Arthur sent him a glare.
“Why do you think she won’t walk, papa?” Daisy looked over to him, a frown etched on to her lips.
You looked up at Arthur, who rubbed his eyes.
“It’s hard to tell, honey.” Hosea rubbed his neck. “But she looks like a strong one. I’m sure she’ll be walking in no time.”
“Can we make her walk?” Daisy’s eyes found you.
You opened your mouth to answer but found that you didn’t know the right thing to say. You looked up at Arthur.
“Yeah, sweetpea. Let’s give it a try now. She ate well last night. Should have some energy in her.” Arthur pulled open the stall door. “You go stand out with papa, Daisy.”
“Okay, daddy.”
Daisy moved out of the stall and instead peered through the fencing.
“You wanna give me a hand, pumpkin?” He held his hand out for you.
“Of course. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
Arthur pulled you to your feet and brushed off your skirt.
“You know how we had that calf a few winters ago that wouldn’t listen to me but loved you? Try to encourage her to get up.”
“You think she’ll listen to me?”
“It’s worth a try.”
“Has she stood up at all?”
“No.”
“Thought you would’ve learned by now not to trust greasy conmen, Arthur.”
“Shut up, Hosea.” Arthur muttered.
You took a piece of apple from the bowl Arthur brought into the barn and knelt down in front of Piper. You put the apple piece in front of her nose, letting her get a little nibble of the treat before pulling it away.
She tried to follow you by stretching her neck but that only got her so far.
“Come on, girl.” Arthur encouraged, giving her flank a little pat. “Gotta get up.”
She lifted herself up on to her front hooves as if she wanted to stand but that was where she stopped.
“Good girl.” You rubbed her head and let her nibble on the apple a little more. “Sweet Piper. Just a little more, sweetie.”
“Come on, Piper!” Daisy anxiously spoke from outside of the stall.
Piper looked like she was ready to stand up, but at the last second she seemed to give up and her front legs buckled. She fell back to the ground, whinnying and flicking her ears.
You stood up, putting your hands on your hips. Arthur watched you from where he was knelt down behind Piper.
“Whatcha thinkin’ bout, pumpkin?”
“Max.”
“Oh no.” Arthur stood up, shaking his head. “That goat is not teachin’ this horse any bad habits.”
“He won’t teach her nothin’ but maybe to walk.”
***
Max was a Saanen goat that you kept on the farm with a handful of other goats.
Max was a handful to deal with. He was mischievous and liked to stir up trouble wherever he could. His favorite activity to do was harass your husband. Max was sweet and nice to you and Daisy. He just didn’t like many people.
Max followed you to the barn, bleating loudly for attention.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Arthur muttered, blue eyes carefully watching Max as he trotted through the barn.
“Just trust me.” You put your hand on his arm as you opened the door to Piper’s stall.
Curious, Max followed you into the stall. Once he saw Arthur was in there, he bleated and scratched his front hoof against the floor.
But then Piper let out a high pitched whinny, catching Max’s attention. The goat’s ears perked up and he redirected himself towards the foal. He bleated, sniffing curiously at Piper’s leg, and then he bounced around and dug his head at her flank.
“What’s he doing?” Daisy asked.
“I think he’s trying to get her to play with him.” Hosea rubbed Daisy’s shoulder.
Piper placed her front hooves on the ground and whinnied once more. Max bleated.
With bated breath, you watched as Piper stood up on shaky long legs. Daisy almost clapped her hands but Hosea stopped her, not wanting to spook the animals.
Max sniffed Piper and then took off out of the stall.
Piper watched him leave, ears perked up as she listened.
“Well. That could’ve gone worse.” Arthur said.
“She’s standing up!” Daisy exclaimed.
Piper moved around a little, her knees shaking as she explored her stall.
“When can I start to work with her? Like you did with Poncho?” Daisy’s question was directed to Arthur.
“Baby steps, sweetpea. We can’t work her too hard.”
But daddy-!”
“Daisy.” You cut her off, keeping your voice gentle. “Don’t raise your voice at him.”
She frowned, looking down at her hands.
“Maybe in a week or two, sweetpea. Gotta make sure Piper’s good on her feet.” Arthur patted the foal’s flank.
The filly whinnied, then dipped her nose into the bucket of water in the corner of her stall.
“I’m gonna go start breakfast.” You told Arthur.
“I reckon I’ll go down and see if Charles is up. See if he ain’t too busy and wants to give me a hand with the hayloft.”
“Okay. Be safe.” You leaned in to kiss him. He kissed you gently and chastly, placing his hand on your side.
“I’ll let you know before I leave.”
You nodded and turned to exit the barn.
Arthur watched you leave, then his eyes flickered down to Daisy.
“Daddy? You think I can take her out to the pasture? Maybe she wants to get some sun.”
“Yeah, sweetpea. You can go out there with her. S’long as you’re careful and don’t get behind her when she’s standin’.”
“I’ll go out and watch her.” Hosea offered, moving away from the stall. “Let you get some work done. Make yourself useful.”
“So you get to sit on your ass while I do all the hard work?”
“Precisely.” Hosea chucked.
Arthur shook his head, a grin pulling at his lips.
Imagine Arthur and Merlin adopting a kid and then being the literal dorkiest dads ever
Arthur would pride himself on being the “cool dad” but really he’d be the biggest dork ever. Bravely putting himself forward for any school trips or bake sales because “no one else will” when really he just wants to hang out with his kids more. Merlin would be there too, of course, but he’d be on the arts and crafts stall teaching everyone how to face paint.
