A/N: Thanks again for all of the support! Your reactions and thoughts have been a great source of inspiration and motivation. I am also relieved to hear that my more sympathetic depiction of Maxson is not too out of character or boring :) I was able to find some wifi access while traveling to get this chapter out, I hope you like it.

Chapter 7: Company

Whiskey was required. A lot of it.

At 2200 hours, Arthur had finally freed himself of his suitors and shuffled to his quarters. He felt physically drained, as if he'd been feasted upon by bloodbugs.

He had the foresight to bark, "No visitors!" to the guards flanking his quarters. They both nodded in tacit understanding.

He threw his jacket away agitatedly. He had aimed for his bunk, but the coat plopped gloomily onto the floor instead. Normally, such disorder would aggravate the young Elder and he would be compelled to quickly remedy the mess; today, he did not even notice the disarray. Instead, he saw flashes of the five suitors he'd met earlier that day. The memories made him grimace.

The women he'd met were hardly harpies, which made his negative reactions to them all the more frustrating.

Andrea Casin, daughter of Outcast leader turned Citadel Elder Casin, was not classically beautiful but clearly bright... And yet Arthur could see cold scheming and ambitious cunning behind her coal black eyes.

Beth McNamara, niece of Elder McNamara from the West Brotherhood chapter, was fair and pretty… But she was devoid of any personality and life, like the shed exoskeleton of a molting mirelurk.

Amy Artemis, General Artemis' daughter, was sculpted and beautiful….But she was also stunningly unintelligent. (This had surprised Maxson, as he had known her father, a knight at the time, as a child in the Citadel. Her father had never seemed so blatantly dim-witted).

Janet Rothchild, granddaughter of Citadel Elder Rothchild, was kind and charming….But she had admitted to Maxson over lunch that she had fallen for another man and was merely here at her grandfather's urging.

Finally, there had been Laura Bigsley, sister of Citadel Head Scribe Bigsley, who arrived at the Prydwyn embarrassingly intoxicated and was promptly sent to the infirmary.

The whiskey on Maxson's table was dangerously close to empty. It would not be enough to suffice. Luckily, one of his perks as Elder was access to the locked liquor cabinet in the mess hall. He angrily rummaged for the key and made a bee line for his destination, lest he be intercepted by one of his suitors.

He growled. He should have confined his suitors to their quarters under some pretense of safety.

His pace quickened.

Perhaps I am being too harsh, he thought. He had gone into the day negatively and could have easily projected his dour feelings onto his suitors. True as such a revelation may be, however, it hardly made him wish to see any of them ever again.

They weren't right for him, he insisted.

Then who was?

Someone like the late Sarah Lyons? Or the vanished Lone Wanderer?

...Or Knight Nora?

He snarled at himself. He was being ludicrous.

The mess hall was largely empty due to the lateness of the hour, with one notable exception.

Paladin Danse was huddled alone in a corner. He appeared haggard and morose, hunched over the table and staring into the distance with a frown etched upon his face.

Arthur abruptly stopped, surprised. Danse was a strong, proud warrior. Maxson had never seen him like this. Curiosity got the better of the Elder. He unlocked the liquor cabinet, grabbed an unopened bottle of whiskey and two glasses, and approached the paladin.

Danse jolted when he saw his superior officer, quickly straightening his rounded back and saluting. "Elder Maxson," he rasped, his voice betraying surprise and fatigue. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Arthur often saw something of Danse in himself. Both men took their roles within the Brotherhood seriously. It was their life, all they knew. As a result, both men were shrouded in formality and duty.

"At ease, soldier," Arthur said, waving his hand dismissively. He set a shot glass down in front of Danse. "It looked like you could use this."

Danse cupped the glass in his large, calloused hands. "Thank you, sir."

Maxson seated himself across from the paladin, placing another glass down in front of himself. Both men waited silently as Arthur opened the whiskey bottle.

"What is on your mind, soldier?" Maxson asked as he poured Danse an apparently much needed drink.

Danse sighed and slogged the shot quickly before responding. "Off the record, Arthur? It's about my relationship with Knight Nora." Arthur immediately perked up, suddenly prickly and hot, but the paladin did not notice.

Instead, Danse traced his finger thoughtlessly traced the rim of his glass. "I am supposed to be her sponsor. I am supposed to be the one leading her. Teaching her." He looked up guiltily at the Elder. "And yet, more often than not, she is the one leading me. Teaching me." He poured himself another shot. "And honestly, Arthur? Even when she leads me into missions unrelated to the Brotherhood, I find myself preferring it that way." He shook his head. "Now with her away in the Institute, I find myself wondering if I've let the Brotherhood down."

Arthur downed a shot, internally denying his own rushed relief that Danse had not admitted romantic feelings towards Nora. Maxson did not answer right away, instead letting the silence hang between them.

Finally, Arthur began. "Nora is…" She was many things to both men. "Unusual. I would not be alarmed if her role within the Brotherhood is also unusual." Danse's tense face softened. Arthur continued. "Despite your reservations, you have both performed admirably. So long as you both continue to perform admirably, I am not concerned about the finer details of your interactions."

Danse's shoulder's seemed to sag, an invisible weight lifted. "Thank you, Arthur. It is a great relief to hear you say that."

Maxson found himself wanting to tell Danse that he wasn't the only person making strange exceptions for this woman but took another shot of whiskey instead and cringed.

At this point, Ingram and Haylen walked in, Ingram loud and proud while Haylen quietly muttering agreements.

"So I told Teagan he could take his laser rifle and stick it-" Ingram bellowed, stopping only when she saw Danse and Maxson huddled over a whiskey bottle. "Paladin. Elder. What's the party for and why wasn't I invited?"

The whiskey was beginning to work; Arthur found his tongue finally starting to loosen. "You may join us if you wish. I hear the power armor upgrades have been seamless."

Ingram happily plopped down beside them. "Well there may have been one circuit failure here, a few sparks there, but let's not muddle in the finer details."

Haylen quietly seated herself beside Ingram, softly greeting her superiors. "Good evening, Elder." Her voice softened a bit. "Danse."

Danse for his part was too block headed to notice Haylen's slight change in manner, greeting her professionally. "Haylen. How are things at the station?"

She shrugged. "Uneventful. The ghoul attacks have stopped entirely, thanks in large part to you and Nora, I suspect."

Danse nodded, frowning at the name of the missing woman. "I wonder what she is doing right now."

Ingram smirked. "If her past actions are any guess, she is probably kicking some synth ass."

Haylen reached over and clutched Danses' wrist. "She is fine, Danse. She can take care of herself."

Danse just nodded solemly.

As if on cue, a large commotion could be heard in the hallway. At first, Arthur dreaded that one of his suitors had done something foolish, but when someone shouted "Knight Nora!" everyone at the mess hall table shot up.

"Told you she was a tough son of a bitch!" Ingram exclaimed. She waved Haylen over. "Come on, Haylen, she might have managed to upload Institute data onto that holotape!" Both women jogged out.

Arthur turned to Danse. "Tell her I want a full report in the morning."

Danse nodded and saluted. "Yes sir!" He too, quickly departed.

Maxson found himself alone with his whiskey. He did not wish to eagerly bolt to her as well; such would be unseemly for an Elder. Still, at least the brief but welcome company he kept this evening somewhat cancelled out the awkward company he kept earlier that day.

Maybe what he had told Knight Nora earlier that morning had been wrong. Nora, Danse, Ingram, Haylen. Likely even Kells, Cade, and Teagan. Perhaps Arthur Maxson did know who he could trust after all.

In the coming days he would discover how wrong…and right…he was.