Arthur From Peaky Blinders Novels & Stories

I pulled the heavy blanket up over his bare shoulders, tucking it in so the morning chill wouldn't wake him. He was a puzzle I couldn't solve, and it was starting to anger me. When I first found out his name was Arthur and not Raine, I had managed to stop myself from digging into his past. I had told myself it didn't matter. He was a dancer from the lower district, a boy who lied to keep his job, and that was all I needed to know.

“You don’t know anything about Liam.” Arthur chuckled, his eyes narrowing at me in amusement. The sound of his laugh was cold. “Oh, but I do. More than you could ever imagine. I know way more about him than you do apparently, but I’m not surprised by this. You’re just his little plaything for now. He turned his attention back to Liam, “How has it been, not knowing where you really come from, Liam? Poor little orphan boy Liam,” Arthus said. His tone was full of false sympathy.

“Mommy’s there.” “What about you?” she asked. “I’ll be right behind you,” I promised. “Scout’s honour.” She nodded and ran towards the house, ponytail bouncing, completely unaware that two men outside were about to turn her world into a battlefield. The second she disappeared inside, Arthur stepped out of his car. Up close, I understood the power he carried; not loud, not aggressive, but controlled. The kind of man who never rushed because the world had always waited for him. “Damian,” he said warmly, extending his hand.

My eyes widened in shock when I heard what he said, how did he even get to know about Arthur? I turned towards him, my heart drumming in my chest, I didn't know what he was going to say, and I anticipated it so much. “Arthur isn't who he appears to be in your eyes, Arthur is a businessman, but he is not. He is a mafia who deals with drugs, stolen jewelry, and women, nothing more than that.”

Matthew's vision blurred as Arthur stood up, switchblade raised high, ready to bring it down on Matthew's head. Matthew was quick and crawled backward making Arthur miss the target. Arthur growled in frustration and pursued Matthew. "You can't run forever." He dove forward, tackling Matthew to the ground. They wrestled, each trying to gain the upper hand. Arthur managed to pin Matthew down, the switchblade poised above Matthew's face. "Any last words?" Matthew smirked and pointed a gun on Arthur's temple, "Any last words?" Arthur's eyes flashed with anger and a hint of admiration for Matthew's tenacity. "You're a worthy opponent," he whispered, his voice dripping with venom. "But it's over."

Blake’s POV As I tightened my grip on the table’s edge, trying my best to endure the waves of unbearable pain that assaulted my body, the door of my hotel room suddenly opened. “Are you alright?” Arthur asked, holding a bowl of dark medication toward me. Arthur Pent was my personal physician and best friend. I waved a hand at him, indicating that I was fine. “Take the medication!” Arthur said while forcing the bowl to my lips. I guzzled it and the gnawing pain had subsided for the time being.

In the end, he chose to give up. He did not want to return to the hopeless days of the past. In fact, Arthur felt better now that Blair discovered his identity. He could finally put down this heavy burden. Blair stared at Arthur and laughed coldly. He thought someone like Arthur, trained as an undercover assassin from a young age, would have some backbone. Unexpectedly, he was already begging for mercy before Blair said anything. However, Arthur was not begging him to spare his life but rather not to reveal the truth to Tracey.

One glare from me shut him up and he took a step back, I looked at the girl with raised a eyebrow. "I'm waiting" I said. "He's..." she faced down. ".. he's not my mate" she said. I sighed in relief. "Good, you see this boy here" I pointed at Arthur. "Don't let his looks deceive you, he might look like he's in his twenties but he's in fact, only 17years old" "Ara" Arthur called. "What?!" she exclaimed, looking at Arthur accusingly. I set my lips on thin lines and nodded, Arthur rolled his eyeballs as he puffed out some air and folded his arms on his chest grumpily.

Looking at my pack who are still fighting and holding their own against the weapons of the guards. My father begins to shift, his bones popping as they dislocate and rearrange themselves, and I find myself staring into the swirling cobalt eyes of Arthur. He’s the polar opposite of David, he’s evil, sadistic and a little crazy. A perfect soul matched to my father. He lunges forwards to attack; I shift my weight onto my heals and twist as I use his trajectory against him and throw him into a nearby tree.

It was a live feed from the cliffside mansion's courtyard. The Peacekeeper gunships were no longer circling. They landed, their engines idling. The soldiers weren't searching the rubble; they were standing in a perfect, motionless circle around a single figure sitting on a stone bench. It was Arthur. He was holding his head in his hands, but as the camera zoomed in, we saw his eyes. They weren't his usual fading blue. They were glowing with a solid, unchanging black—the same color as my dead "Sync" band.