*First off, this isn't some nice, squishy romance. It's probably more than a little fucked up and deals with dark, marture themes. You have been warned.

*This was written as a kind of a test story to see if there are any others out there that might enjoy my twisted cup of tea. No plans to stop uploading, but be warned, there are no reguar updating schedules.

.

.

.

.

.

Elder Arthur Maxson had reservations when he first read Danse's report on his new field-promoted initiate. While her skills seemed to be exactly what the Brotherhood looked for and he was intrigued by her Vault past, she was the leader of the Minutemen and he wanted nothing getting in the way of Brotherhood values.

But he gave Danse the benefit of the doubt, knowing he would soon be able to meet this "General" and decide for himself if she was worth the trouble or if these Minutemen needed to be taken out. Yet as the Prydwen got closer to the Commonwealth, Danse sent out smaller reports about the Initiate completing her tasks like a seasoned soldier.

Every report was turned in ahead of schedule and there were times where she finished several missions from Danse's team in a day, no worse for the wear. She managed to track down the missing recon team on her own, and gave a report to Danse shortly after recruitment. The initiate even got the survivor, Paladin Brandis, to rejoin the Brotherhood after his isolation, a feat he found highly invaluable.

And after the Prydwen finally anchored down at the Boston Airport, only a few hours had passed when Danse reported in with the Initiate in tow. The moment he saw her, Arthur knew she was different than the other recruits. She had strode onto the observation deck with a purpose, meeting his gaze as an equal. She wore one of the most well taken care of set of combat armor he'd ever seen on a civilian and what looked to be an array of nice guns that looked far from stock. This woman didn't come to them because she needed protection. No, he knew from the start that she wanted to be there for bigger reasons then she let on.

Yet Vivian Văduva continuously showed that she was a warrior and was damn good to look at no matter what she did. Arthur wasn't blind, the BOS uniform clung to her curves like a second skin with icy eyes and unnaturally white hair so unusual it only caught his gaze even more. Everything about that woman seemed otherworldly from the way she talked to how she fought and Maxson was enamored by it.

Early after each recruit was registered into their database, the Elder looked through her files, almost needing to know more about her past. He found himself pleased with knowledge that Vivian was pre-war, frozen through the years of desolation that ravaged humanity. It meant no baggage, there would be nothing holding her back from Brotherhood duties. It meant her ideology came from the same tie Roger Maxson was from. It also meant she would have the healthiest body in the entire wasteland, perfect for survival and perfect for bearing strong, capable children.

Out of curiosity, and nothing more he told himself, Maxson listened in to the Minutemen broadcasts and could even say he was impressed with the work she did with them there. This side of Vivian, the General, worked on keeping her people safe. Anyone allied to her had protections and areas around were constantly kept under guard. Her work with the Minutemen actually helped out his recon and scribe teams, something else he wasn't about to take for granted. Not when most Wastelanders would rather try wait till his men die to steal their equipment. Out of curtesy, he began sending vertibird teams out to the locations the Minutemen were called to as unofficial and unannounced backup.

It didn't take long for desire hungered to make her his. Arthur wanted Vivian leading at his side and writhing in his bed, no other woman satisfied his fantasies like her.

What agitated Maxson, however, was how it didn't take long for him to start disliking her relationship with Paladin Danse. Danse knew better than to fraternize with his men but that didn't stop the same look of yearning lust from appearing on his face when the Paladin thought no one was paying attention. Arthur wasn't even fond of her other companions, several mercenary-type of men and women that always enjoyed her company a little too much in his opinion. There was even a damn ghoul that followed her around taunting his other soldiers while staring plainly at Vivian's ass.

He knew he was getting territorial over a women he had no claim on and being the Elder, he couldn't- wouldn't- let anything fog his mind or get in the way of his positon. So all he did was watch, wait, and plan. He wanted the Brotherhood to see her in good enough standing to accept her as the Elder's wife but wanted to make sure she was on the right path before even trying to pursue anything.

And while it was uncertain if she would accept him, Maxson had found himself catching Vivian staring him only to hastily turn away when she would notice he was watching her, she would ask about his past, pause by his room on the command deck every time she came and went. It wasn't much to go on but it kept his desire for her burning.

Which he felt was partially to blame when he let Danse live. Arthur was enraged that night she walked out protecting that synth, outright yelling at him and demanding that he listen to her. It went against everything he stood for, everything he fought for, but he compromised- for her- and lied to all of his men. He broke his own oath to keep her with the Brotherhood, or more accurately, with him.

That was the night he vowed nothing would stop him from making her his. To ensure her rise to his side, she was given the title of Paladin along with it's perks. Maxson wanted her closer to him, and her upgraded suit and the lack of a personal commanding officer only increased their interaction. She went on to continue her work as if nothing had ever happened, her persistence almost seeming to increase. His pride, respect, and lust for her only grew as the weeks went by.

Though Arthur could say he was surprised when Vivian strolled into the command deck asking to speak with him privately. She told him it was important but it wasn't something she wanted everyone to hear. It was enough to stir his interest, make him almost hopeful he could convince her to spend the night with him and go on from there.

He had his share of women over the last few years but nothing he wanted for longer than a night.

Vivian was different. Maxson wanted her. He wanted her to want him, to stay with him. And that was something he had never dealt with before. It stirred more inside than he was comfortable with.

So he had one of the better bottles of liquor out and sat in the on the couch beside his bed, already a glass in hand, as he waited for Vivian.

Sip after sip went by and before he knew it, Arthur was pouring another glass for himself, using the alcohol to calm his nerves. After a third glass was poured and underway, he heard a knock on the door, her voice muffled as she called out to him.

"Come in, Paladin." Arthur responded business-like, standing to greet her. She was without weapons and armor, her dark Brotherhood uniform her only protection. While she still donned her General hat, he couldn't help but notice her lack of aviators and bandana; a sign of trust and peace onno her part.

"I appreciate you talking with me on such short notice Elder. I wouldn't be bothering you like this if it wasn't important." Vivian entered, meeting the Elder's gaze. She was speaking with him like the General, not Paladin, a subtle but noticeable enough change in that only made Arthur wonder more.

He nodded, leaning against the railing to the foot of his bed. "By all means, Paladin Vivian, my door is open to you at any time." Maxson flickered his eyes over her body for a brief second, lust ridden thoughts making him smirk as she closed the door behind her.

"Thank you." Vivian said turning back to him, hesitating before she spoke. "This… this is difficult. Please, just hear me out and bear with me, Elder. Please."

"Of course, Paladin."

"Well." She took a deep breath, sighing on exhale. As she spoke, Vivian stepped in closer. "I told you before that I joined the Brotherhood in hopes of finding my son because the Institute had him. Well, I had found him that first trip there."

Maxson had straightened out, slightly tensing up as he met her gaze. This wasn't the topic he was expecting but he hoped for her sake, her son wasn't harmed, though it was presumed the child was dead. "You never said anything of it,"

She looked pained as she murmured, "That's because Shaun- he isn't… a baby anymore. He's, physically, more than twice my age." Vivian looked down and took another deep breath before looking boldly into Maxson's eyes. "He's the Director of the Institute now. He begged me to work with him, to give them a chance so I did. He has recently named me his successor."

Arthur locked up, dark blue eyes narrowing at the Paladin. He wasn't sure how to register what she had said, but it sounded like pure treachery. He recalled everything she had done for them and started drawing new conclusion out of them as she continued on.

"I want you to know that this war doesn't have to happen. You have heard a lot of rumors but nothing from the actual source about the Institute. I can tell you the truth about them, help you understand. There are innocent people here and down there that don't need to die and-" Vivian broke off with a lamented sigh. "I will not turn on my son. I don't want to be forced to turn on you. Not when I'm trying to prot-"

Maxson snapped forward, blind rage seething as his hand wrapped around Vivian's throat and lifted her off the ground. She was caught off guard, the Elder's grip getting tighter and tighter. He almost saw red, not wanting to hear a traitor's excuses and more than willing to execute her however he saw fit. But he didn't want her dead. No, he put much into her already. he was going to give him what he had been wanting for a while now, then could die like the defector she was for all he cared.

He held her like that, up in the air as she struggled and tore at his hold until her face got red and eyelids began to flutter close. When Vivian fell limp, he tossed her onto his bed like a ragdoll. He was on her in seconds, tearing her uniform open and ripping it off before she regained consciousness.

Completely bared, Arthur had a moment to finally appreciate her full body, nearly completely untainted from the Wasteland, save a few scars. He ran his hands over her breasts, he was almost shock and how soft she was; no other woman nowadays could ever look or feel like this. She was practically a pre-war pinup.

And now she was his and his alone.

Already aching, Maxson hurried to grab an extra pair handcuffs he kept in his desk, locking Vivian's arms to the railing at the head of the bed. She would be able to twist and move her legs, but she wasn't going anywhere.

Satisfied with his work, the Elder pulled a nearby chair closer to the bed and sat with a bottle of whisky. He watched her, a riddle of possession, anger, betrayal, lust, and regret swirling through him as he drank and waited.

Arthur couldn't kill her, there was so much he had invested into her already, it would be a waste. Vivian was still the perfect person to bear the Maxson heir, she just needed to learn where her loyalties lie.