A/N: This chapter is more on the fluffy side but since there aren't that many chapters left to go before the ending I don't feel that bad ;) Again thanks to everyone for reading!

Chapter 21: Promotion

Atop the observation deck, Arthur could sense it before he could see it.

Over the dead hills and decrepit cities that he'd marveled at as a boy, it beamed in the distance.

Strong. Resolute. Proud.

The Citadel.

Home.

He'd intended only to return once the Institute had personally been obliterated by his hand. Instead, his homecoming was much more dubious and perhaps even more dangerous than his crusade against the Institute. Soon, he would be capturing or fellow soldiers while attempting to keep the very fabric of the Brotherhood from unraveling before him.

Worst of all was the humiliating part he'd need to play in the days to come: Doting fiancée to Bethany McNamara. He'd informed the council that she was his wife of choice solely to ensure that Hardin would attend the ceremony. It certainly was not for Beth's personality, which rivaled feral ghouls in emotion and charisma.

He felt yet another physical wave of nausea crash upon him. He clutched a nearby railing for sorely needed support, hunching over in apparent pain.

Nora was his only minor source of consolation. When the words like 'marriage,' 'wedding,' and 'wife' were uttered, he caught her subtle frowns and minute recoils. She planned this awful debacle, but she did not want to see her scheme come to fruition either. That was something, at least.

As the tiny pinnacle of the Citadel grew in the distance, he heard the patter of footsteps behind him.

He turned.

Nora approached. Danse was with her.

She'd predictably insisted the synth join them on their mission to the Citadel. It chagrinned Arthur that he was unable to disagree with her. He hadn't found a single hairline crack in Danse's dog-like loyalty.

What Nora could never appreciate and what Maxson silently resented was his own disgrace in permitting Danse to return from exile. The Elder had to admit to the entire crew of the Prydwyn that Danse had not, in fact, been killed by the Brotherhood when his identity was uncovered. Arthur then had to further concede that Danse had been aiding the Brotherhood in exile and would be permitted aboard the Prydwyn once more to assist in an upcoming mission. The Elder noted the confused glances and weighty stares his soldiers shot him after the announcement. Hesitation and backtracking were hardly considered qualities of a resolute and unerring leader. Maxson found himself avoiding the silent judgements of his fellow brothers and sisters, but fortunately the perceived weakening of his leadership did not last long. The return of the revered and popular Danse absorbed the majority of the crew's attention, causing speculation and joy in equal doses. Even from the observation deck, Maxson could hear the hushed whispers concerning the former paladin.

Maybe Danse isn't a synth after all?

I heard he helped Nora blow the Institute to hell.

I thought Nora had killed him.

Glad to see the big guy's back.

So is Danse still a paladin?

I hope Danse takes over combat training again. Teagan sucks.

I need Danse to look over these weapon schematics for me, I can't make heads or tails of them.

As Danse and Nora proudly stood before Maxson, the Elder gazed stoically at the duo for a moment, his eyes cold and calculating, his mouth curved in a scowl.

He didn't know why their partnership continued to irk him. Danse had always been formal and dutiful. He'd always shown Maxson only the utmost respect.

He'd always spoken of Nora with courtesy and admiration.

He felt himself twinge as he sized up the pair.

From posture to position, their friendship was clear. They stood side-by-side, perfectly aligned and mere inches apart. It was a closeness Arthur could not publicly show towards Nora, especially with his farce of a wedding approaching.

Maxson forced himself to speak. "Nora. Danse," he started curtly. He turned away from them, immensely relieved to no longer be staring at the cozy pair. What he had to say would be difficult for him. Looking upon them would only make things more difficult.

The sun glinted through puffy clouds, illuminating the observation deck in a golden haze. "It is typical for Elders to be accompanied by paladins within the Citadel for ceremonial purposes and for personal safety. Unfortunately, I don't know which soldiers under my command I can trust to accomplish that task."

He forced himself to turn slightly towards them. "That is why, after much thought..." He paused. Danse's dark eyes were glued to his own. "I have decided to reinstate Danse to his rank of paladin and promote Knight Nora to the rank of paladin as well."

Nora wasted no time, leaping atop her towering partner and ensnaring him in a joyous embrace.

Maxson looked hotly to the floor, immediately regretting his decision. But it was too late. It was done. He'd already reversed his position on Danse's exile. To reverse another decision would only continue to degrade his leadership.

"Congrats, you old lug you," Nora squealed as she released her partner.

Danse gave her a small blushed smile, his eyes incredibly tender towards Nora. Maxson dared to look up again and his jaw clenched.

For a moment Arthur wondered if he'd descended into madness. He had just allowed a synth to rejoin his ranks because of his own weakness towards Nora, a woman he just promoted to paladin despite her dual loyalty to the Brotherhood and Minutemen. What was wrong with him?

Danse turned to the Elder and saluted. "Thank you, sir. I won't let you down again."

Arthur's face was stone. "See to it that you don't. Paladin."

"Yes, sir," Danse said, attempting to restrain his emotions.

Nora finally seemed to realize her own promotion. She saluted the Elder with a grin. "Thank you, sir."

Maxson turned his back to them once more. He did not want to look upon them a moment longer.

"You will escort me off of the ship and into the Citadel once we are docked. Dismissed."

He only heard one clatter of footsteps exit.

Maxson stubbornly kept his back turned. He needed to keep his anger sequestered. He was on the observation deck, in full view and earshot of a bustling ship of soldiers.

He also did not wish to see Nora's smug satisfaction.

Nora, intelligently, said nothing, though he could sense her relentless stare.

More footsteps. Arthur, to his mixed relief and despair, assumed she was leaving.

Instead, she brazenly strode up beside him. Maxson found himself frozen out of anger, excitement, and possibly even trepidation.

The vault dweller slyly nudged herself beside the Elder, and nimbly snaked an arm in-between his charcoal flight suit and fleeced jacked. Her arm curled itself around his back, her hand resting on his far hip. It was an ingenious move, tactically; his thick coat concealed her sly embrace to the crew. It appeared as if two soldiers were simply standing beside one another to view the Citadel in the distance. No suspicions would be roused before the wedding.

She let out an elongated exhale, her voice whispering in tremored emotion. "Thank you."

Maxson felt his body tickle and spark. He attempted to sound unfazed. "It was nothing."

Nora squeezed his hip. He fought the urge to bite his lip. "Will Danse's reinstatement cause problems with the council?"

Maxson swallowed. He loathed confessions. "I never informed them of the incident with Danse." He lowered his head. "I was too proud. I did not wish for them to know of my failure. I did not wish to appear weak." He shrugged. "In any case, you will both be dressed in full power armor as my escort. Your identities should remain anonymous."

She inched dangerously closer. He could feel her shoulder brushing against him. He stifled a shiver. "I don't think you are weak, Arthur Maxson," she cooed.

He laced a free hand over Nora's own diminutive fingers as she continued to grasp his hip. "Stay here with me," he responded. It was less of a command and more of a plea.

Nora acquiesced. They watched the Citadel loom and grow in intimate silence.