[Hetalia] Gentleman Don't Chase Outlaws 3/?
Written for usxuk Sweetheart's Week.
I'm not terribly fond of this installment but it was the best I could come up with today ><
Title: Gentleman Don't Chase Outlaws 3/?
Genre: Adventure, AU
Rating: PG
Word Count: 854
Summary: Arthur begins to question whether Marshal Jones truly knows what he is doing.
~*~
Jones was quiet after Arthur told him the story that set him on this course. He seemed to be pondering the task that Arthur had hired him to do. Arthur wasn't certain if he was getting ready to refuse, but he swallowed his nervousness. He wouldn't let the cowboy get to him. They had been riding for hours after setting off right after dawn.
The tale had been difficult to tell, the wound so fresh in his memory, having only been three months ago. He could still remember coming towards his brother's claim from hunting. He had killed a few rabbits and anticipated a fine meal of them. The silence had permeated every inch and set his nerves on edge. The mine too quiet for any work to be going on. That was when he discovered his brothers... dead except the next closest in age. His brother clung to his shirt and told him to avenge them, whispering the name of their murderer with his last breath...
Dying without giving him any words of encouragement was so like his brothers. Although, when he truly thought about it he shouldn't have expected anything different. His family wasn't exactly the affectionate sort. He glanced up under the brim of his hat at Jones' back. The man in front of him knew what brotherly affection was. Arthur couldn't help but be a little jealous. There was no hope for him now.
Arthur rode up beside Jones attempting to get a better look at his face. He needed to know if Jones was planning to refuse, even though they were well underway. They were two days out of the town and Jones had been chattering ceaselessly until now. Arthur jolted a little when Jones met his eye. The blue eyes were far more serious than anything Arthur had seen previously.
"Are you refusing me?" Arthur asked, trying to discern the meaning in the other man's look. Jones immediately shook his head.
"That guy is going to get what is coming to him. I won't lose him."
"You always get your man."
A smile crept onto Jones' face, "I always get my man, Arthur." The smile was so genuine that Arthur felt warmth growing in his chest. He didn't understand it, but Jones seemed to just radiate warmth. That warmth was completely outside Arthur's experience. "Let's stop underneath those trees by the creek for lunch."
"Shouldn't we continue on? Won't he get away?" Arthur asked, his confidence in Jones' reputation waning once again.
"I haven't found any signs yet, it won't matter if we stop for an hour. Besides, the horses need to get out of the sun for a bit. They'll overheat and then we'll have to walk which will take even more time." They rode up to a grove of cottonwoods on the bank of a small clear stream. Arthur climbed off his horse and waited in the shade while Jones tied up the horses and rifled through his saddlebags for something to eat. Jones hadn't given him any say during the supply purchasing.
The other appeared a moment later with an armful of bread, cheese, and jerky. They sat down to eat. Arthur ate absentmindedly listening to Jones mention something about where they would be heading to go look for some clues. Apparently, Jones had a friend that lived a day and a half ride away who may have heard something. It seemed this man was quite the informant. Arthur nodded and watched the water flowing over a rock in the stream as he ate. It took him a moment to realize that Jones had said something else and that he was holding out his hand for him. Arthur turned to look and noticed the taffies in his palm.
"Want one?" Jones asked.
"I don't eat candy, Jones."
"What?! And call me Alfred."
"I don't eat candy, Alfred." he repeated, wondering if the use of the other's first name would get his point across.
"You don't like sweets?"
"No."
"Just try one, the nicest old lady makes them in Silverton. It would break her heart to hear that someone refused her taffy." Alfred had such an endearing and begging expression on his face that Arthur could feel exasperation rising in his chest.
"Alright, fine." He took the sweet and found it to be surprisingly good, but he wouldn't let the other know that. He would probably make him eat the whole bag. However, Alfred seemed satisfied, leaning back against the tree. He took a branch and marked a line in the soil, a little ways from the short shadow of the tree.
"Wake me up when the shadow crosses the line." Alfred said, tilting his hat over his eyes to block the sunlight. Another smile flashed at Arthur beneath the hat, "And you can have some more candy if you want."
Arthur sighed and lay back in the short grass. He resolved that he would discover more about this man when they made camp tonight, he was far too confusing and contradictory. Maybe he did have the wrong Jones after all...
I'm not terribly fond of this installment but it was the best I could come up with today ><
Title: Gentleman Don't Chase Outlaws 3/?
Genre: Adventure, AU
Rating: PG
Word Count: 854
Summary: Arthur begins to question whether Marshal Jones truly knows what he is doing.
~*~
Jones was quiet after Arthur told him the story that set him on this course. He seemed to be pondering the task that Arthur had hired him to do. Arthur wasn't certain if he was getting ready to refuse, but he swallowed his nervousness. He wouldn't let the cowboy get to him. They had been riding for hours after setting off right after dawn.
The tale had been difficult to tell, the wound so fresh in his memory, having only been three months ago. He could still remember coming towards his brother's claim from hunting. He had killed a few rabbits and anticipated a fine meal of them. The silence had permeated every inch and set his nerves on edge. The mine too quiet for any work to be going on. That was when he discovered his brothers... dead except the next closest in age. His brother clung to his shirt and told him to avenge them, whispering the name of their murderer with his last breath...
Dying without giving him any words of encouragement was so like his brothers. Although, when he truly thought about it he shouldn't have expected anything different. His family wasn't exactly the affectionate sort. He glanced up under the brim of his hat at Jones' back. The man in front of him knew what brotherly affection was. Arthur couldn't help but be a little jealous. There was no hope for him now.
Arthur rode up beside Jones attempting to get a better look at his face. He needed to know if Jones was planning to refuse, even though they were well underway. They were two days out of the town and Jones had been chattering ceaselessly until now. Arthur jolted a little when Jones met his eye. The blue eyes were far more serious than anything Arthur had seen previously.
"Are you refusing me?" Arthur asked, trying to discern the meaning in the other man's look. Jones immediately shook his head.
"That guy is going to get what is coming to him. I won't lose him."
"You always get your man."
A smile crept onto Jones' face, "I always get my man, Arthur." The smile was so genuine that Arthur felt warmth growing in his chest. He didn't understand it, but Jones seemed to just radiate warmth. That warmth was completely outside Arthur's experience. "Let's stop underneath those trees by the creek for lunch."
"Shouldn't we continue on? Won't he get away?" Arthur asked, his confidence in Jones' reputation waning once again.
"I haven't found any signs yet, it won't matter if we stop for an hour. Besides, the horses need to get out of the sun for a bit. They'll overheat and then we'll have to walk which will take even more time." They rode up to a grove of cottonwoods on the bank of a small clear stream. Arthur climbed off his horse and waited in the shade while Jones tied up the horses and rifled through his saddlebags for something to eat. Jones hadn't given him any say during the supply purchasing.
The other appeared a moment later with an armful of bread, cheese, and jerky. They sat down to eat. Arthur ate absentmindedly listening to Jones mention something about where they would be heading to go look for some clues. Apparently, Jones had a friend that lived a day and a half ride away who may have heard something. It seemed this man was quite the informant. Arthur nodded and watched the water flowing over a rock in the stream as he ate. It took him a moment to realize that Jones had said something else and that he was holding out his hand for him. Arthur turned to look and noticed the taffies in his palm.
"Want one?" Jones asked.
"I don't eat candy, Jones."
"What?! And call me Alfred."
"I don't eat candy, Alfred." he repeated, wondering if the use of the other's first name would get his point across.
"You don't like sweets?"
"No."
"Just try one, the nicest old lady makes them in Silverton. It would break her heart to hear that someone refused her taffy." Alfred had such an endearing and begging expression on his face that Arthur could feel exasperation rising in his chest.
"Alright, fine." He took the sweet and found it to be surprisingly good, but he wouldn't let the other know that. He would probably make him eat the whole bag. However, Alfred seemed satisfied, leaning back against the tree. He took a branch and marked a line in the soil, a little ways from the short shadow of the tree.
"Wake me up when the shadow crosses the line." Alfred said, tilting his hat over his eyes to block the sunlight. Another smile flashed at Arthur beneath the hat, "And you can have some more candy if you want."
Arthur sighed and lay back in the short grass. He resolved that he would discover more about this man when they made camp tonight, he was far too confusing and contradictory. Maybe he did have the wrong Jones after all...