Power Dressing
Nora only had time to knock once on the metal door of the Elder's quarters before it was pulled slightly ajar and someone hauled her inside. The door slammed shut behind her and Paladin Danse turned the key, locking it with a snap!
"Did anyone look through the door, Paladin?" Captain Kells demanded, turning to glare at them.
"No, sir. Though I believe the knights on guard duty outside may have just become…curious." Danse frowned, running a hand through his hair.
"Well, it did look a little suspect when you dragged me in like that…" Nora grumbled, rubbing her arm before realising both men were glaring at her. "Sir."
"Even in an emergency, Knight, ensure that you retain proper decorum!" Captain Kells scowled, drawing himself to his full height.
"Yes, sir." Nora resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she set her feet apart and clasped her hands at her back.
"At ease, Knight! We don't have time to stand on ceremony!" Danse ordered, striding towards the table.
"But the Captain just said-"
"Are you being insubordinate to your superior, Knight?" Kells demanded sharply.
Nora's mouth opened and closed several times before she relaxed her posture. "No, sir."
She glanced around the room warily as Danse and Kells began to talk in low voices at the table. When she had been summoned by squire to the Elder's quarters, she had expected to see… well, the Elder. But he was nowhere in sight.
I bet he'll sweep in with a dramatic entrance. He does love to make an impression.
"Hart, get over here!" Danse frowned, impatiently gesturing for her to approach.
Nora fought the urge to pull a face as she moved to his side, casting her eyes over the table. She expected to find a map on the surface, or some kind of urgent report. Instead she found napkins soaking up spilled coffee and a half full mug nestled on top of them.
As she watched, two large, trembling hands reached tentatively towards the mug and when they closed about it, the coffee began to slosh noisily inside. Slowly, the hands raised the mug towards a pale, bearded face.
Nora's mouth fell agape.
Elder Maxson had been sitting at the table all along! Yet she hadn't even noticed him in the presence of Kells and Danse!
He was sat with his head bowed, trying to sip from his mug without spilling half the contents down himself. His blue eyes darted nervously about the room, looking anywhere but at her.
Speechless, she turned to gawk at the Captain and Paladin. "What's wrong with him?!"
Danse sighed, leaning forwards on the table. "Look at your Elder closely, Knight. Tell me what's missing."
Maxson cringed back in his seat, choking slightly on his coffee. With a pained expression, Kells wordlessly dropped a fresh napkin onto the Elder's lap.
Frowning, Nora began to study the Elder intently, watching as he mopped hot coffee from his flight suit.
"He's missing his… dignity? …His charisma? The steel in his soul? The –"
"His coat, Knight! He's missing his coat!" Danse cried, looking exasperated.
"Oh. Right. I can see that now." Nora said with a nod and an apologetic smile. Outside of V.A.T.S, her perception skills left much to be desired.
That still doesn't explain why the Elder's become such a shrinking violet, though.
As she watched, the trembling Elder placed the mug back down on the table and made an odd sound in his throat. Danse straightened up his posture immediately, assuming the parade rest position. He tapped Nora's foot with his own, prompting her to mimic him.
The Elder's face was turning scarlet, his neck and ears already blazing.
He drew in a deep breath…
…and mumbled into his beard.
His voice was so quiet, Nora couldn't even be sure that he had spoken.
His shoulders rising and falling in a silent sigh, Captain Kells lowered himself into the seat beside the Elder. He removed his hat, setting it down on the table at a safe distance from the Elder and his coffee, before leaning in towards him. Maxson cupped his hand over his mouth and whispered into the Captain's ear.
When Maxson sat back and began to fidget, tapping his feet on the floor, Kells straightened up and steepled his fingers. "Paladin Danse. Knight Hart. By order of Elder Maxson himself, you are to locate and retrieve the Elder's coat by any means necessary."
"…May I ask where the Elder may have left his coat?" Nora asked, studying the Elder intently. It was almost like looking at a completely different person.
Maybe he's a synth?
"The Elder did not misplace his coat. It was stolen." Danse interjected. "Someone broke into Elder's quarters as he slept and took it."
There came a soft sniffing sound and when Nora glanced away from her C.O. it was to find Maxson sniffing miserably, his head bowed. Everyone knew that the Elder was fiercely proud of his coat, but she had never thought he'd be reduced to tears over it.
"This thief has not only exposed weakness in our security protocols, but has also caused great affront to the Elder and the Brotherhood." Kells raised his voice to drown out the sniffling Elder who was now blowing his nose on a napkin. "It is your duty, not only to safely locate and return the coat to your Elder, but to enact Brotherhood justice to the wretch who has taken it. Am I clear?"
"Yes, sir!" Danse saluted, Nora belatedly mimicking his gesture.
"It goes without saying, Knight, that news of this does not leave this room. If I hear one whisper about the Elder's current condition, I will have you scrubbing the hull in a radstorm." Kells added, awkwardly reaching up to grasp Maxson's shoulder as he released a strangled sob.
Nora had left Danse to turn the Prydwen inside out, claiming that she was going to search the airport below. In actuality, she had caught a vertibird towards Goodneighbor and from there had proceeded to the Old North Church. She had barely stepped inside HQ before a figure was striding towards her, bedecked in the best coat in the Commonwealth.
"Knight! Where have you been?! You were supposed to be here to lick my boots hours ago!" Deacon roared in his best impression of the Elder. He'd even gone to the trouble of putting on a fake beard and had drawn 'scars' across his face in red marker.
It was impossible for Nora to hold back a snort of laughter. Yet, strangely, Deacon did have a powerful presence about him now. He was standing a little taller, his chest puffed out as he strutted back into the main room with his hands clasped behind his back.
"Deacon, I'm going to need that coat back." Nora smirked as she followed him.
"How dare you refer to me by my name and not my title! You may only refer to me as 'Elder' or 'God', you ingrate! Now go find a portrait of me and worship it!" Elder Deacon commanded, sweeping off towards PAM's room.
Before she could follow him, Drummer Boy had stepped in her path, his arms folded and expression serious. "Do we have you to thank for that?" He asked, jabbing his finger towards PAM's room where Deacon was quite audibly making pretentious demands of PAM.
"Okay, I let him stay one night on the Prydwen. I didn't know he was going to steal the Elder's coat though, did I?" Nora protested, holding her hands up. "I'm here to get it back, anyhow so…"
"Charmer!"
Nora almost jumped out of her skin as Tinker Tom locked his hands on her shoulders, propelling her away from the irate Drummer Boy.
"Man-oh-man am I glad to see you!"
"Tom? What are you-"
"That coat! It's incredible!" The agent babbled excitedly, pushing her down into a seat and racing over to his desk. He began to rifle through the papers that cluttered the surface, babbling on as he searched through them, many of the pages drifting to the ground. "Not only is it one fine looking piece of apparel, but it's got the best ballistic weave pattern I've ever seen! Oh-ho-ho boy but that is not all my friend!"
He spun around on the balls of his feet and practically shoved a schematic into her hands. Nora raised her eyebrows, looking at the clumsily drawn stick figures. One had shades, the other had shades and a coat. "Is this supposed to be Deacon?"
"Only one of them is Deacon, my friend. That one!" Tinker prodded the stick man with shades before withdrawing a pencil from his dungaree pocket. "Here, let me just make it a little more obvious…" Nora watched as he pencilled in a smile and speech bubble that read "hello my name is Deacon and I like to lie a lot."
"Yeah, that's cleared it right up for me, Tom. So who's this guy supposed to be?" She asked, nodding at the coated stick man with shades.
"That's Coat-Deacon. He's like a whole-new person, man! He's got some mean charisma skills, huge presence and his ego – well, you saw that first hand."
"So this isn't Deacon in a coat, it's Coat-Deacon?" Nora raised an eyebrow. "Tom, have you been injecting battery acid again?"
"I'm being serious!" Tom insisted. "That coat does things to people! I mean, Dez tried it on earlier and suddenly starts ranting about how we need to go on a full-out crazy offensive thing! Carrington puts it on and starts declaring himself King of the Railroad! Then Deacon puts it on thinking he's going to just pretend to be the Elder- but look at him, man! He thinks he is the Elder!"
As Tom spoke, Deacon strutted from P.A.M.S' room, walked over to a desk and casually swept the reports an agent had been reading through, before standing there and scowling at the woman.
"Okay, Elder Maxson's frightening, but he's not pointlessly mean like that." Nora frowned, folding her arms. "He's just acting like a cat I saw on a video once… back before I was frozen." She added when Tom gave her a strange look. "Anyway, what's your point?"
"My point is that coat has some kind of freaky science or magic behind it, man! It makes people feel powerful! I was saying to Dez that maybe we should keep it, but-"
"Absolutely not!"
They glanced up to find Desdemona striding towards them, a cigarette smouldering between her fingers. She was pale and had a haunted quality to her eyes. "That coat is dangerous. It has a corrupting influence upon people!"
"But it's a coat." Nora began, when Deacon loped over towards them.
He seized Tom's 'schematic', glanced over the diagrams and casually began to shred it to pieces.
"Are you crazy?!" Tom cried, trying to grab the pieces back only for Deacon to throw them in the air like confetti.
"Those 'diagrams' were offensive to my eyes!" Coat-Deacon announced, his voice carrying through the catacombs. "You shall instead draw me a portrait, catching my best side! This side, where I have less scars!"
As Deacon tapped his left cheek and turned to assume a pose, Nora launched from her seat and seized the coat, attempting to yank it off of him. Deacon spluttered, then began to struggle, only for Dez, Tom and a couple of nearby agents to seize him and help wrestle him into submission.
The second he was free of the coat, Deacon stopped struggling.
As the other agents rose, he just continued to lie on the floor, staring up at the vaulted ceiling with his mouth hanging slightly open. "Whoah." He finally breathed, slowly sitting up and raising a hand to his head. "That was… intense."
"What was it like?" Tom asked, seizing a notepad from his pocket and readying his pencil. "Are there any lingering effects? How are you feeling?"
Nora slung the Elder's coat over her shoulder, marvelling at the weight of it. The leather was surprisingly soft, not to mention the warm white fur lining it. She offered her hand to Deacon and helped pull him back to his feet. The agent was frowning behind his shades, reaching up to remove the dark, shaggy beard.
"I feel… like I've lost something." He finally managed. "My throat kinda hurts, too."
"That happens when you shout incessantly." Doctor Carrington grumbled, stalking towards them. "Thanks to you, I've had to treat half the agents present for headaches! Not to mention I've had to expend some of our supplies to help other agents sleep!"
"Ugh. Because you weren't shouting earlier when you tried to overthrow Dez…" Deacon muttered sourly, shooting the man a contemptuous look from behind his shades.
"That was- you can't –"
"Enough." Desdemona called. "All that matters is that we stop this petty bickering and focus on what we have! Whilst everyone is forbidden to wear the coat, I'm certain that we can think of a way to use it to our advantage – wait. Where's Charmer?"
Breaking off, she turned to where the agent had been stood only moments before, the battlecoat slung over her shoulder. A door slam echoed through the catacombs.
Nora sat on weathered bench, admiring the coat in her hands as the vertibird grenade hissed on the ground, releasing a plume of orange smoke. The bottom of the coat had trailed along the ground of HQ thanks to Deacon's insubstantial height. Admittedly, she was barely any taller than he was, but if drew herself to her full height, maybe it would trail just above the ground?
It was a very attractive coat and she knew that she would never have the opportunity again once it was returned…
She checked the skies for any signs of an approaching vertibird, then stood, slipping the coat over her shoulders.
The effect was instantaneous. A warm rush of confidence, the sudden certainty of her place in the world, the knowledge that she would make it a just and better place!
The coat was heavy, burdened by the weight of her duties and obligations. But it was also comforting somehow, like as long as she was wearing it, she could carry the world on her shoulders.
She could faintly smell a mixture of cigarette smoke, steel, power armour grease and cologne not native to the Commonwealth. It would need to be washed when she had the time, but her time was not to be wasted.
There was much to accomplish and so little time in which she could do it.
The Commonwealth needed her!
A distant droning interrupted her thoughts and she scowled, folding her arms behind her back as she watched the vertibird draw in. A confident smile pulled at her lips as new possibilities began to open up before her.
She would build up the Minutemen. She would save the Railroad. But first, the Brotherhood needed her!
She waited until the vertibird had landed, before vaulting aboard. The Lancer turned to look at her and his mouth dropped open. Nora swept over to him, locking one hand on the back of his seat.
"Pilot. Take me to the Prydwen immediately." She growled. When he just stared at her, she turned a stern glare upon him. "Now, pilot! I expect results!"
"Y-yes ma'am!" He spluttered, turning back towards the console. "Systems are green, Knight –"
"Knight?" Nora's voice was dangerously quiet and the man flinched in his seat. "Does this coat look like it could be worn by a mere Knight, pilot?"
He swallowed, turning to peer at her over his shoulder. He slowly shook his head.
"Tell me, pilot. To whom does this coat belong?"
"The… The Elder?"
"Correct!" Nora roared. "So you will address me thus! Now get a move on, pilot, or so help me you will be on report!"
There came a flurry of knocks upon the Elder's door and Maxson started violently in his seat with a startled gasp, covering his heart with his hand.
Kells frowned up at Danse. That had not been the secret knock they had taught the Knight. Danse raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Kells pursed his lips, but nodded, watching as the Paladin began to stride across the room. He pulled the door slightly ajar, speaking in a low voice to the person on the other side.
A few moments later, he closed the door and turned to face them, his expression confused and angry.
Maxson swallowed audibly, tugging on Kells' sleeve. The Captain, with all the patience he usually reserved for his squires, leaned in and listened to the Elder's urgent whispering. When Maxson sat back in his seat, staring up at the Paladin with wide eyes, Kells cleared his throat.
"The Elder would like to know what is troubling you."
Maxson nudged him with his elbow and Kells sighed.
"He would also like to know if a snack cake would make you feel better."
Immediately Danse's expression brightened and he reached for the open box on the table, ignoring the exasperation on Kells' face.
"Thank you, Elder."
"Danse. Focus. Who was at the door and what did they say?" Kells demanded, grabbing his hat and resisting the urge to wring it out of shape.
"It was one of your squires, sir. Apparently we're being summoned to the command deck." Danse was visibly distracted by the cake in his hand.
Kells' brows drew together in confusion. "Who has summoned us?"
Danse went pale and hastily stuffed the cake into his mouth, sweat breaking across his forehead. For a few awkward minutes, he chewed the cake in silence, keeping his gaze diverted from the irate Captain.
There came another flurry of knocks on the door and this time Kells rose to answer it, angrily replacing his hat back on his head. He pulled it open to find a flustered looking Squire.
"Captain Kells sir! One of the Knights has gone crazy sir! She's saying that she's the new Elder and she's sending for you and Paladin Danse and Elder Maxson, sir! Paladin Brandis said I should come and fetch you immediately, sir!"
Kells frowned. "Where is the Knight, Squire Dawes?"
"The Command Deck, sir! She's also wearing the Elder's coat, sir!"
There came an audible gasp from somewhere in the room behind him, followed by a loud crashing sound. Kells barely had enough time to push the Squire aside before Maxson threw the door open, racing past them towards the ladder.
When they turned to look back in the room, it was to find the table had been thrown onto its side, hot coffee pooling on the metal floors amongst islands of broken coffee cups and sodden napkins. Danse, his flight suit stained with scalding coffee was clutching the box of snack cakes in his arms. As Kells watched with raised eyebrows, the Paladin turned his back to them and when he turned around again, the box was empty and his cheeks bulging, his beard covered in icing.
Nora had the soldiers lined up in rows, taken from their duties to hear her speech. The assembled consisted almost solely of deck scribes and a couple of knights who had been on Prydwen patrol, but she intended to address the rest of the crew and soldiers later, when she had the time to assemble them in the airport and write a long, hair-raising speech.
She scowled, striding towards the windows to glare down at the Commonwealth below. It needed to be saved and time was of the essence. But first it was necessary that people understand that she was in control. That she did this not for her own glory- the coat alone gave her glory enough – but for the good of the Commonwealth and the lands beyond.
She heard a heavy thump! and saw the soldiers at the back begin to stir uncomfortably, beginning to whisper.
"Order!" She roared, spinning on the balls of her feet, fixing the assembled men and women in a steely glare. Those assembled seemed to stand up straighter and she could see sweat breaking out on some of their faces. "What caused that distraction?" She demanded, beginning to prowl up and down before them.
No one dared to speak.
Then there came a strangled squeaking noise, barely audible above the hum of the Prydwen's engines. Nora frowned. Was there a mouse aboard, or a squeaky turbine? She cast her eyes across the rows gathered in front of her. Is it just me, or does the room suddenly smell like coffee?
The noise came again and her eyes moved towards a figure that seemed to shrink into itself when she looked.
"Knight Hart! Explain yourself!"
Her eyes flickered to where Captain Kells and Paladin Danse were striding into the room. She smiled a slow, confident smile, clasping her hands at her back and waiting for them to come to her.
"Knight, answer your superior officer!" Danse demanded, his large brows drawing together.
Nora raised her own eyebrows, making a show of peering around the command deck.
"Pray do tell, Paladin, who would happen to be my 'superior officer'?"
There came another squeaking sound and she exhaled noisily through her nose. "Will somebody go and fetch the cat? We seem to have a mouse problem."
"Knight, as your commanding officer-"
Nora held up her hand, the look in her eyes stopping Danse dead. "Stand to attention, Paladin. Captain. I have much to be said and no time to waste."
"Captain Kells. Paladin Danse." Paladin Brandis greeted, gesturing for them to stand next to him. Wearing a livid expression, Kells swept towards him followed by Danse who seemed to be marching as though he were on parade.
"What is going on here, Brandis?" Kells hissed as Nora swept to centre stage, peering at those assembled before her.
"She came in here, in Maxson's coat and started bossing everyone around."
"Why is everyone listening to her?" Kells hissed, trying to ignore the way his eye was starting to twitch.
"Well, she seems kind of… Elder-ly?"
"What did you just say, Paladin Brandis?!"
Despite themselves, Danse, Kells and Brandis stood to attention, eyes widening as Nora stalked in front of them with a scowl.
"Did you say I was elderly?!"
"N-no ma'am. I was referring to your title!"
For a few tense moments, Nora glowered up at the Paladin. Brandis swallowed. He felt that there was a very real danger that she might jump up and go for the jugular. Instead she spun on her heel, a thoughtful expression on her face.
Then she nodded. "You are correct, Paladin Brandis. That is the title. But it is no more!"
Whispering broke out amongst the ranks, but Nora flourished her arms and they fell silent as her presence washed over the room, stunning them into silence. None could take their eyes off of her. She seemed to grow taller and one of the air conditioning vents above her head just happened to turn on, causing her dark hair to stir and flow in the draught.
"In the place of an Elder you will have a Queen! Not dark but beautiful and terrible as the bomb! All shall love me and despair!" The golden rays of the sunset illuminated the windows at her back and for a few moments all were stunned into silence, staring.
There came a bellow and suddenly a tall, broad figure with a strong aroma of coffee raced towards her, sending her crashing to the ground.
"It's mine! It's mine!" Arthur Maxson shrieked, his voice shrill as he attempted to claw the coat from her. Nora seized his shoulders, trying to throw him off.
Kells wasn't sure who the idiot was, but someone began to chant "Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!" and the rest of the assembled soldiers took it up.
"Brandis! Danse!" He barked, prompting the two Paladins to move forwards and try to separate the Knight and Elder who were rolling around snarling at each other. As Danse pulled Maxson away and Brandis pulled Hart up, the two began to try and slap each other.
"That is enough!" Kells roared, startling the two 'combatants' into stillness and silencing the crowd. "You will all return to your duties immediately! Dismissed!" He watched as the rest of the soldiers beat a hasty retreat, trying to ignore the fact that he could see Nora and Arthur mouthing silent insults to each other and pulling faces.
When he turned back to face them, they feigned peering about the room instead. Danse released Maxson, but Brandis retained a firm hold on Nora's arms.
"This madness ends now! Hart, you will remove the Elder's coat and hand it back to him! Then you better hope he doesn't press charges of high treason against you!"
Maxson folded his arms, smiling smugly. Already some of his presence and confidence seemed to be returning.
"Fine." Nora sniffed, shaking off Brandis' grasp.
Then she kicked him in the shins and feinted around Kells. Danse moved quickly to block the door with his frame, but Nora seized a box of snack cakes from one of the tables and threw it, making her escape as the Paladin dived for the sweet treats.
Arthur Maxson charged after her with surprising speed, racing out onto the flight deck before the hatch had even closed.
Kells stared after them, his mouth hanging open as Brandis hopped beside him, cursing whilst Danse sat up on the floor, looking guilty as he popped another snack cake into his mouth.
They dived around barrels, pushed deck scribes at each other and at one stage, Nora even tried to steal a vertibird though the deck crew refused to release the clamps. The Lancers were fast to shut and lock the doors after that, having noted the way she was starting to look at the machine guns aboard.
Finally, he cornered her at the end of a vertibird platform. They were both panting, the strong winds tousling their hair and giving them a wild appearance. The coat flared dramatically around Nora as she pulled it closer about herself.
"And so it comes to this!" She yelled, the roaring gales almost drowning out her voice. "One final confrontation to see who can wear the coat better!"
"It was made for me, Hart! You cannot win!" Maxson called, advancing slowly. "It's mine!"
Her eyes narrowed. "You're nothing without your coat, Maxson! But with it, I am so much more!" As she raised her arms again, about to launch into another grandiose speech, Maxson launched at her, tackling her to the floor.
They struggled, rolling around with the Elder fighting to pull the coat from her arms whilst she did all in her power shove him away and remain wrapped up in it. The deck scribes and knights gathered, staring in fascinated horror as the two fought on the floor, cussing and lashing out at each other.
But finally it seemed there could be only one conclusion. Maxson was both bigger and heavier than Nora and finally managed to pin her down. He was trying to force her arms out of the sleeves when she thrashed violently in one last desperate attempt to escape - and suddenly the two of them were falling over the edge, the world spinning wildly, pink skies and grey land below blurring.
There was a sudden, violent jerk and Nora found herself staring at the airport below, her feet uselessly treading the air, the wind billowing the coat around her. She couldn't even scream. Slowly, she reclined her head to find that Maxson had seized the collar of the coat in both hands, his face pale but expression determined, one foot hooked around the safety rail.
Even above the winds, she could hear the crew screaming and shouting. They began to haul the Elder back up onto the deck and a few moments later, hands had seized her sore arms and dragged her safely aboard. She lay back on the grille, staring past the anxious faces that had formed a ring around her.
I almost died. She thought faintly, feeling sick.
It was at that moment that she realised the coat was gone from her shoulders. Slowly, the enormity of what she had done began to sink in and she turned, staring in horror as the coffee-stained Elder slipped the coat back over his shoulders.
Immediately all eyes fell upon him.
Maxson swept a hand through his tousled hair and it fell immaculately back in place, unmoved by the strong draughts. Gone was the meek and anxious man, replaced instead by a strong, charismatic leader who was completely and utterly back in control. Nobody even noticed the coffee stains on his uniform, and thanks to the constant winds whistling around the deck, no one could really smell the coffee either.
He turned his fierce glare on Nora and she cringed. She was pretty certain she had committed several acts of treason in her short time as 'Queen'. Also calling herself Queen might have been a teensy bit treasonous in itself.
"Knight Hart. You will report to my office immediately." He scowled, his voice deep and commanding. A far cry from the frightened squeaks he had emitted earlier that morning. Ducking her head, Nora rose unsteadily to her feet and made her way through the silent crowd.
Maxson couldn't help but look smug as he gazed up at the Prydwen, sunglasses protecting his eyes from the intense glare of the sunlight on steel. His ship hadn't gleamed like that since the day it had been finished and it filled him with immense pride to see it do so again.
Beside him, Kells and Danse seemed equally impressed, shielding their eyes with their hands even with the shades on. Knight Hart by comparison seemed dead on her feet, her head nodding towards her chest and the tray in her hands tilting towards the ground. It was hardly surprising though as she had been the one to scrub the Prydwen until it shone.
"Knight. Cola." He commanded, jolting her back to wakefulness.
She almost dropped the tray but caught it just in time, steadying the bottles of Nuka-Cola atop it. A snack cake did roll off, but Danse caught it with sharp reflexes, popping it into his mouth and ignoring the look Kells shot him.
Not only had the Paladin cleared most of Teagan's snack cake stores single handed, but he had also completely demolished the Elder's stash too on the 'Day of the Coat'. It was nothing short of a miracle that the man still cut a trim figure.
Maxson accepted the cold bottle she placed in his hand, taking a triumphant swig.
He would cleanse the Commonwealth of the Institute scum and all of their abominations. But first, he needed to ensure that his floating castle was carried on wings of steel rather than feathers. Which meant ensuring all of his soldiers had nothing but the utmost loyalty and respect for him and the Brotherhood.
He could think of no better way to ensure Knight Hart's humility than menial but exhausting chores.
"Paladin, I believe there is a high concentration of feral ghouls in the Cambridge Crater, am I correct?"
Danse hastily swallowed the snack cake, his eyes already moving to those remaining on the tray. "That is correct, Elder."
"We shall travel there this afternoon and purge the filth… with rippers."
"Wouldn't laser weapons be cleaner, sir?" Danse asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, Paladin." Maxson replied absently, beginning to stride away with his coat billowing behind him. "You've seen the work Knight Hart has done on the Prydwen. I expect no less when she cleans our power armour… and the suits of the twelve knights and paladins we shall bring with us."
As Kells followed the Elder, Danse lowered his sunglasses to catch Nora's eye. He shrugged. "You got off lightly, all things considered Knight. Just take it and learn your lesson."
As Danse turned to follow Kells and Maxson, Nora glowered after them.
"Next time I get that coat, I'm heading straight to the Castle."
A/N: This was written thanks to a hilarious conversation I had with the amazing sunsolace- the idea snowballed into a one-shot while I'm working through writers block for my other fic. There really is something magical about that coat though! I hope you've enjoyed reading it and thanks for stopping by!