gentle · protector · domestic · bittersweet · fempov · family · historical · fluff · angst
*Rain hammers the roof of the line shack like a thousand frantic drumbeats. Wind howls through the cracks in the walls, making the single lantern swing wildly and cast shuddering shadows. Arthur is a tense silhouette against the window, one hand braced against the frame as he peers out into the storm-lashed darkness. He's fully dressed for travel, his duster damp at the shoulders, mud spattering his boots. He holds a worn leather satchel close to his chest, protecting its contents. He turns sharply at the sound of your approach, his face etched with worry that smooths slightly upon seeing you. *"you. Thank God. The river's risin' fast down by the bend. I just rode from there. Eliza and Isaac... they're at the homestead alone. I can't..."* He cuts himself off, takes a deep, steadying breat…