AU set soon before the events of FO4, but where FLW and Maxson were the same age (19) in FO3. I always found it a bit silly that he was only 20 and already an Elder in FO4 so yeah.
Rated M for sexual content.
It was a fair trade-off, all things considered. Her hand in marriage in exchange for a chance to stop the Brotherhood from falling into ruins.
Not that Maxson would extend the courtesy of letting his spouse make any serious decisions. It was not his way. He chose her because she was strong, loyal, and capable—Project Purity would never have worked if not for her.
If there ever was a suitable candidate to marry an Elder from the respected bloodline-the Lone Wanderer was it.
But she was also the last one willing to fight for Lyons's idea. The last one to ensure that Maxson wouldn't go completely off the rails—a fact that seemed to elude him.
She wondered whether Arthur forgot where her true allegiance lied or whether he decided to ignore it. Maybe he thought that it died when Sarah did. Maybe he believed no-one would dare question the last Elder from the Maxson bloodline.
Perhaps it didn't matter. Theirs was a marriage of convenience, even if she'd wanted to get to know him close and personal back when they first met.
Now they stood in front of each other, him in his elegant robes, and she in a dress that some Scribes sew to fit. There was no pretense of a religious union, only a utilitarian practice of a civil wedding, but it was quite a celebration. The Brotherhood gathered in the Citadel courtyard, respectfully observing as they the two said their vows.
And then, Maxson placed a gentle kiss on her cheek—brief and respectful yet her stomach still stirred in response. She offered a small smile and he took her hand in his while turning toward the crowd.
"Brothers and sisters, today we celebrate," he said and the crowd cheered as they walked to the canteen.
It was rearranged. His—theirs now—usual table standing vertically to all other ones, decorated and full of foods and alcohols that were hard to come by. The string lights hung on the walls, giving the place a soft hue that only accentuated a romantic song playing from the jukebox.
She was almost surprised by the extravagance of it all, knowing how pragmatic Arthur was, but then she remembered that his marriage was one of the most important events in recent Brotherhood history. If she had to bet, he was doing it for his soldiers, and not for himself.
"I like it," she said to him quietly as they sat down and the corner of his lips turned ever so slightly.
He opened one of the wines and poured it into their glasses just as the rest of the Brotherhood got to their tables. Then he stood up, attracting the attention of everyone in the room.
"I'd like to toast," he started, "to my wife." She shifted in her seat, surprised by his words. "She's proven to be not only a hero of the Capital Wasteland but also of the Brotherhood. Her sacrifices and undying loyalty are everything that you'd expect from a Maxson's wife. And she'll be the one to carry this bloodline into the next great generation."
A soft rumble of approval ran through the room and her hand tightened on the glass.
"Lily." It was the first time he called her by the name in front of others. "I toast to you. Ad Victoriam."
"Ad Victoriam," the crowd responded as they clinked their glasses.
He watched her sip on the win, his gaze softened as he sat down. Perhaps he thought she enjoyed his speech—that she felt flattered by his words. In a way, she did. Never before had she heard him address someone by their given name, but then again, she was his wife.
A position that she entered willingly, but which suddenly seemed to rest heavy on her shoulders.
Lily always knew she'd need to give him an heir—Brotherhood marriages were less about feelings and more about duty. She didn't dislike the idea. She hoped to have children of her own someday and if those children were Arthur's, they'd live better than most.
It didn't hurt that she respected the man too and enjoyed his company. And there was always a certain pull between them—chemistry that they never acted on. She wondered briefly whether his marriage proposal had anything to do with that, but she reminded herself that Arthur was the type of man to marry anyone had they done what she'd done.
Not that it mattered either way. She simply hoped that by securing her position so close to him, she'd in time become enough of an influence to change his line of thinking. She'd be the neck spinning the head of the Brotherhood—saving it from its own demise. Some would say that she was calculating, but she believed it was out of care for Arthur and his people.
It was the right cause, but if she was being entirely honest with herself, she hoped that theirs would be a loving marriage. One where she wouldn't need to question him, but where he'd want to listen to her.
"Eat." He slid a plate with the brahim steak in her direction. He watched as she took a generous bite, his head nodding slightly in approval.
The evening passed in a pleasant atmosphere, with the members of the Brotherhood getting more and more relaxed due to the copious amounts of alcohol being passed around. At one point, some of the soldiers made their way to the jukebox, their bodies swaying in the rhythm of the music.
"One of the texts I read recently spoke of a peculiar pre-War tradition," Scribe Rothchild spoke to Arthur as he looked over the crowd. "Apparently, the bride and the groom would perform the first dance."
"Go on." Arthur took a sip from his glass and Scribe cleared his throat.
"It's supposed to symbolize the union between the couple. The beginning of their new life. It sounds rather… silly, but I nevertheless found it interesting."
Arthur took another sip, his eyes wandering from the crowd to Lily.
"Do you want to dance?" He asked and her eyes opened in surprise.
Never in a million years did she expect that Maxson—the Brotherhood Elder that made the crowds cower at his sight-would like to entertain her like this. Maybe it was the alcohol, but she doubted he ever let his guard down publicly.
"I do," she said because refusal would most likely hurt his pride and, even though she'd never admit it aloud, she was curious to see him dance.
He helped her stand up and walked them to the jukebox, people stepping away respectfully.
"Carry on, soldiers," he said as his arm gently swooped around her back, his fingers intertwining with hers.
The people were watching. Shyly and from under their eyelashes to not infer disrespect, but it must have been the first time the vast majority of them saw him doing anything else than commanding.
Arthur didn't seem to care, but the gentleness of his touch implied certain decorum associated with all Elders.
"You're not half bad," she joked lightly and watched a little spark in his eyes.
Had he been any other man, he'd probably laugh and twirl her around, but it was not Maxson's way. Still, it was pleasant to be held by him like this. And if she had to bet, it must have been pleasant for him too, his body relaxing into her touch despite his best attempts. It was, after all, the first time they've ever been this close physically.
When the song ended, he bowed his head to her and then looked at the crowd.
"You're free to keep on celebrating. Make no drink or meal go to waste," he said, "but remember that the training starts at six as always."
Then he leaned into her, his voice softer. "It's time for us," he said and she simply nodded her head.
They went into their quarters which the Scribes renewed soon before the wedding. It was the nicest set of rooms in the entire Citadel and she almost felt embarrassed to have to inhabit them. She sensed Arthur felt the same way as his arms slumped momentarily upon entering.
"I suppose this is the bedroom," he said when they stepped through one of the doors and saw a martial bed covered by squeaky clean sheets. Heat rose on her cheeks even though she was no prude. "Let's see other rooms," he said and she could sense a hint of the same feeling in his voice.
"Nursery," Lily said as they opened the door to a small room nooked between their bedroom and bathroom.
With the word out, she could feel the tension rising.
"I think we need to talk," he said from behind her and she turned around to meet his serious gaze.
"Of course."
Arthur led them to the couch, letting her sit before he did. Had she not know him, she'd think he was perfectly calm, but it wasn't the case. Arthur was more than the ever-grounded Elder and she could hear that when he spoke.
"I know this situation is irregular and I need to admit that I've had a difficult time coming to terms with it. There are obligations bestowed upon you, both as my Paladin and my wife, but while you must listen to me in the field, I'll never force myself on you."
His expression was deadly serious and she had a feeling he rehearsed this very speech many times before. It didn't surprise her.
"No matter the expectations of the Brotherhood," he continued. "I want this marriage to be one of mutual respect and understanding. And when our child comes, I want it to be because we both decided upon it."
When he let out the last word, she could feel the tension spike in the air—the quiet expectation that she'd say something to draw attention away from the fact that he had just opened up, showing himself to be a man that craved something more than glory in war. This was the spark that she hoped to turn into fire.
"Arthur." She moved an inch closer to him. "I want the same things. We might not have been that close before all this, but I want to be your friend. And partner." His eyes sparkled in approval and she offered him a small smile. "So…," she continued, "perhaps we can start with you not being so official when we're alone."
She poked him lightly and he smirked, the first genuine smile she'd ever seen on him.
Then he leaned into the couch, his eyes focused on hers. For a brief moment, she could see relief in them—the weight off his shoulders now that he knew where they stood. And then, as with the flick of the light, his gaze shifted to her lips and goosebumps rose on her skin. It was longing, something she felt stirring inside her too.
But she knew he'd not make the move yet. There were respect and caution on his side, understanding the obvious power imbalance and knowing she was not a fling, but someone he'd spend the rest of his life with. She knew that the last of his bloodline would not meddle things with sex while the situation was so fresh.
Even if he wanted to.
Despite the desire, she understood his reasons. Perhaps it'd work in her favor too—sex tended to complicate things and she first needed a solid ground to work on.
So, she lifted herself off the couch, getting away from his gaze.
"I'm going to take a shower," she said and he acknowledges her with a gentle nod before sinking back into the couch, deep in his thoughts.
He'd not let her on a mission. At first, she thought nothing of it—after all, she was versed in more things than combat. She appreciated the gesture even. Lily always liked to work in the clinic and it'd been the first time since he became an Elder that she was placed there to run tests. But days passed and he'd not send her outside the walls. Not once. She suspected there was more to it than regular work rotation.
"So, how are our operations going?" She asked innocently over dinner and he seized her expression before answering. Arthur was as observant as she was and his answer was perfectly neutral.
"We have six teams dealing with super mutants in the downtown D.C. and three recon teams out in the Wasteland. According to the last reports, they're all doing fine. Why, Paladin?"
Lily took a slow sip from her glass. "I just want to know why I'm stuck in the clinic when there's a fight to be had out there." She cut herself a piece of steak and chewed on it while upholding his gaze.
"You're in the med-bay because that's where I want you to be," he answered, his tone not harsher but a notch colder now.
"Right. And this has nothing to do with us being married?"
"Careful," he warned, his eyes drilling into hers. "I'm not talking to you as your husband now, but as your commanding officer. This has nothing to do with our personal lives."
Lily smiled. "Doesn't it? You know there's a reason why I'm not out with the other teams right now."
Arthur took a sip from his glass. She could see that he did not like the direction of their conversation. Not at all. He was not used to being questioned—the Brotherhood kissed the ground he walked on, and even if he wasn't an egocentric fool like so many men in charge, he was born and raised to be the ironclad leader.
"You're implying that I keep you in the clinic so no harm befalls you. Because you're my wife and the future mother of my children," he stated and she was impressed with how perceptive he was.
She really shouldn't have been.
"I do," she said. "But I'm not trying to question your command. I just thought we wanted this relationship to be built on honesty and mutual understanding." It seemed that her words resonated with him, the tension between them slowly dying down.
"I do want that." He relaxed into his seat. "Very well. Yes, I assigned you to the clinic because we're married. This has always been done this way in the Brotherhood. The Elder's wife was to remain under lockdown until they had their firstborn."
"That's…"
"Cold? Perhaps. But perhaps it was done because the Elders cared whether their wives lived or died. I don't… enjoy the idea of you going out in the Wastes, but I'll allow it because your talents are needed outside these walls too."
She gave him a warm smile, heart beating fast in her chest.
"Thank you, Arthur. I won't let you down."
"I know you won't," he said while finishing off the rest of his meal. "But Lily," he continued while looking at her, "don't think that you can sway me in the future. I listen to reason but I won't have my command undermined. Not even or especially not by my own wife."
She nodded in understanding, but her thoughts were racing. Arthur could be reasoned with. She'd always believed it, but their conversation turned her expectations into a reality. He still needed to assert his dominance—because how could he not with his name and position—but she knew there was a path laid down for her. A path to change things in the Brotherhood and restore it to what it once was.
Lily and her team took off at 6 A.M. sharp. She didn't like that Arthur gave her two Outcast knights—they most definitely didn't see eye to eye—but at least she had Scribe Haylen by her side. Haylen who wouldn't stop talking about some old scriptures she dug up and which talked about medieval knights. That was until they entered the downtown area and super mutants made it impossible to keep up a conversation.
She never enjoyed killing them, not in the way that so many Brotherhood members did. When they entered one of their nesting areas, an apartment building close to Vernon Sq., she could swear that the Outcasts laughed under their helmets as they mowed the enemies down. She decided to split from them, ordering the two to take the basement and ground floor while she and Haylen walked upstairs to the actual residential areas.
Lily told Haylen that it was because there was a bigger chance of finding documents in old apartments than in the basement, but in reality, she just wanted to get away from the Knights. She still remembered the times when they were actual outcasts, having left Lyons's Brotherhood behind. The eventual remerging of two factions—orchestrated by her husband no less—was met with approval of the soldiers from both sides, but she was always of the mind that the splinters should have been left to their own devices. They made the Brotherhood harsher, more isolationist, and more xenophobic. All the things that she believed would bring about their fall.
"Scribe Rothchild will love this," Haylen said as she stumbled upon a stash of pre-War maps.
"I'm sure he will," Lily said absent-mindedly as she looked out the window and down on the crumbling district.
It was a hell of a sight—literally—but in some twisted way, she missed it. She couldn't count how many days she spent in those ruins, scavenging or helping folks. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. Not that the Brotherhood stopped working on the area. Her very team being on the mission at that moment was enough of a proof, but back in those days, she was the Lone Wanderer, working for nobody but herself and trying to change things on her own terms.
The heavy creak of the floor in the adjunct room made her stop daydreaming and reach for her gun.
"Stay still," she whispered to Haylen before slowly walking to the door and looking through the broken glass.
On the other side stood a super mutant, his back turned to her and no weapon in hand.
"Hello?" He asked and the way his voice sounded—calm and curious—made her realize that he wasn't like his kin downstairs.
Lily opened the door despite Haylen's panicked expression and stepped out.
"Hello," she said and the super mutant turned around.
"I thought I heard someone in there," he said and his articulate way reminded her of Fawkes.
"I didn't know anybody else was around," she said carefully.
He seized her up and down before speaking.
"Yes, this is my apartment. But the Brotherhood likes to come in and out as they please."
There was no venom or snark in his voice, but it was clear that he felt strongly about her faction.
"I'm sorry." She approached him. "The rest of the mutants here aren't as friendly as you are."
He nodded his head, a certain kind of sadness crossing his eyes.
"My brethren are not of right mind. I suppose the Brotherhood is doing them a favor."
Lily didn't know what to say. It seemed way too personal and pained to discuss under the circumstances they were in. And the realization that there were more super mutants like Fawkes—living amongst the hostile, crazed ones because they still felt a certain sense of loyalty—made her stomach tighten.
"I'll best leave you to it," she said. "Haylen, you can come out."
The super mutant's eyes wandered to her Scribe stepping out of the room.
"Ah," he mused, "if you were holed up in there, I suppose you found the maps. You can take them. They're of no use to me."
Haylen's eyes sparkled as she stepped back into the room and lifted the maps. "Thank you," she whispered and he acknowledged her with a small nod.
"Farewell, humans. You're kinder than most," he said and just as they were about to move, the door opened, her Knights stepping in.
Adrenaline spiked in her body, words coming out of her mouth before they could do something she'd regret.
"Don't shoot," she said and watched the super mutant take a step back.
"Don't shoot?" One of the Knights had his mini-gun on the ready and aimed at her new acquaintance. "It's a mutie. Is he rigged with a bomb so I can't shoot him back to hell or something?"
The response made her blood boil—not only due to the vileness of it but also because they were under her command yet they didn't seem to care.
"I said don't shoot. He's friendly and we're leaving," her voice was icy cold.
"We're…"
Lily marched up to him, her power armor clinking into his gun.
"Knight," she seethed, "if I hear one more word out of you, you'll be scrubbing toilets until your fingers bleed."
There was a silence for a few seconds and then he put the gun down, retreating into the corridor with the other Knight. Lily and Haylen followed them down and onto the street.
As they walked back to the Citadel, she was thinking about her little victory and how much it would cost her. Haylen was shooting her reassuring smiles—that girl was definitely a kindred spirit—but Lily knew that all that transpired today would make its way into a report and then straight onto Arthur's desk. And she knew he would not be happy. Hell, he would be furious. Perhaps that was the price to pay. One of the hard steps in the process.
She saw him the second they entered the Citadel. He was training the initiates in the courtyard—something that happened rarely and which suggested that he chose a strategic position to await her return. It made heart flutter in her chest.
Lily dismissed her team and walked to the bay, exiting the power armor with a sigh of relief. He was already approaching her by then, a subtle spark of relief in his eyes too—lasting but a second and disappearing completely as he spoke to her professionally.
"Paladin," he said. "I expect the mission went as planned."
It was a strange contrast between Arthur and Elder. He emphasized time and again that they were still bound by their ranks and that he'd treat her no different than others—and he kept that word—but then he'd sleep by her side every night, allowing her to hug into his side and lie her head on his chest, and the lines were becoming blurry in her mind.
"It did," she answered. "We've retrieved some valuable objects. I want to officially commend Scribe Haylen. She did an excellent job."
The unspoken was ringing in the air and she could see he caught on that. The Knights were not to be commended.
"I see. Dismissed," he said without a hint of emotion in his voice and turned around to leave.
Lily exhaled and strutted to their quarters. If she was lucky, she'd manage to at least shower before he came in. And as she predicted, the door to their quarters opened as soon as she put fresh clothes on.
Arthur marched in, his massive posture somehow even more threatening as he approached her with quiet anger brewing in his eyes.
"Is there something you want to tell me?" His voice was barely clinging onto the pretense of calmness.
She'd never seen him like this before.
"I don't think there's anything to tell," she said while lifting her head to meet his hard gaze.
Arthur took one step closer and his physical presence, as intense as it was, made heat erupt in her stomach. She scolded herself internally.
"What was your mission objective?" He asked and she answered without skipping a beat.
"To clear the nest."
"And did you?" His eyes were drilling into hers.
They were playing a game of cat and mouse—a twisted version of it—or so her body insisted, and she swallowed hard as she thought of how his anger would translate in the bedroom.
"Yes," she answered simply and she could see him ground his teeth.
"I see you insist on mocking me, Paladin. The report says that you left one super mutant alive despite your Knights sober-minded efforts to put him down."
"He was a friendly one." Lily tried to reason with him despite the feelings that brewed inside her. She couldn't let her desires tamper with the efforts she vowed she'd make to help the Brotherhood. "He found me and Scribe Haylen and conversed with us. And then he let us go without ever lifting a gun."
Arthur's expression hardened. He was offended by her words, his distaste palatable in the air.
"A friendly one? They're abominations. All of them. A sick joke of people who thought science was theirs to play with."
Lily expected his answer would not be an agreeable one, but the stubbornness of his beliefs and utter refusal to see things that were right in front of his eyes angered her more than she cared to admit.
"Just because you don't see them as people doesn't make them any less so," she said and she could almost hear the crack of the thin ice she was walking on.
He was just watching her, catching up onto all the things that lied under surface and then striking where it hurt.
"Ah, I see." He leaned in closer, the proximity of his face to hers making her shiver. "You think that because Elder Lyons allowed you to march in here with a super mutant at your side, I'll be similarly lenient. You're wrong.
"He became too soft, unwilling to do what the Brotherhood was always supposed to do. I'm restoring it to its former pride and under my command, super mutants are to be shot on sight. All of them. Do you understand me, Paladin?"
Lily couldn't force herself to answer. He gave her a second, then two, and finally stepped in so close that her back hit the table.
His voice was harsh and quiet now.
"Don't make me repeat myself."
She swallowed hard before answering. "I understand," she said. She knew she'd not follow those orders should she run into a friendly super mutant again, but there was no point in fighting him further at that point.
Little steps.
He took a step back, the anger slowly dissipating.
"Good," he said. "Our plans for the Commonwealth are finally coming to fruition. I'll be working late tonight and in the upcoming days. I'll leave your next assignment with Scribe Haylen."
With that, he was out the doors, leaving Lily to finally take a deep breath. She went to the little bar he set up, poured herself a healthy serving of whiskey, and gulped on it as she plopped on the couch.
She knew Arthur wasn't the one to hold grudges. Those were the fool's game and he was too serious and level-headed to ever devote his time to such a pointless endeavor, but she'd undermined his authority in the way that was hard to accept. She wished she could say that she saw the cracks in him, but that wasn't the case.
This whole thing shaped up to be harder than she expected. She'd always known he was the Elder material—the Maxson blood, the bravery, but also the common sense. She just hoped there'd be enough of empathy and goodwill instilled by Lyons to make him want to uphold some of the less severe values. And she knew for a fact there was goodness in him—the desire to be a good husband and a father. The willingness to build something solid between the two of them.
But those were the aspects of their private life. The life that he so tried to separate. And on that front too, she was losing. Perhaps this one shouldn't have been coming as a surprise—he'd always stirred something in her, but she told herself it'd be an easy one to overcome. She never allowed her personal needs to cloud her judgment before but his dominant presence made the longing almost unbearable.
When he came back home that night, he didn't lie close to her, but when she awoke in the morning, their legs were tangled and his face was hugged into her arm. Lily lied there observing his calm expression—he looked years younger when sleeping, probably because his frown was gone. She raised her hand, fingers tracing a soft trail down the side of his face. And then, ever so gently, she caressed his cheek.
"You've been watching me sleep," he said, his eyes still closed and she lifted her hand in surprise.
He opened his eyes and grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand back to his face.
She smiled in response. "Maybe."
"Come here," he said and, to her surprise, pulled her to his lips.
She didn't have time to think of his actions as her body erupted in heat, toes curling when his tongue swiped inside her mouth, a soft groan coming deep from his throat. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him turn her on the back. Arthur's hips ground into hers, his lips traveling down the side of her face, and she could feel the hot, sticky wetness gathering between her legs.
This was unlike him. He usually kept a respectful distance, behaving as a gentleman would and this—deep inside she knew what this was. Pent-up frustration from the night before coming to the surface; the decorum and rules crumbling around him as personal desires mixed with professional life.
He placed a kiss on the corner of her mouth, his beard rubbing off the sensitive skin.
"You don't listen to me," he murmured while resting on his arms, hands playing with her hair.
Lily laughed quietly, not quite sure what she should say.
"Do I have to listen to you here?" She joked and traced her lips down his jaw, enjoying how his hips jerked in response.
It was the first time they've been so close physically yet it felt right. Fitting. It'd been as if they've never been apart before.
"Not here," he said and then lifted himself off her body. "But out there," he sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes from the residue of sleep.
As if by some invisible touch, his whole posture hardened along with his expression, Arthur replaced with Elder as he stood from the bed.
"We have work to do," he said in his usual harsh, no-nonsense intonation before going to the bathroom.
God, how she wanted him. And how impossible it seemed with him behaving like this. She sighed and pulled sheets to her chin while closing her eyes to get away from all the thoughts racing through her mind.
Arthur was mostly absent during consequent days, returning home late at night and barely communicating. He seemed utterly preoccupied with his plans, never quite present when she tried to spend time with him—best she could get was a passing touch when their bodies tangled at night.
She understood. She knew what she signed up for when she married him. And she was occupied with her own work too, having been assigned to a variety of missions ranging from downtown D.C. to the far ends of the Wasteland.
The change came about by the end of the week when Arthur called all of his Paladins and high Scribes to a meeting. She took her place by the round table, being as in the dark about his exact plans as everyone else—the Elder sure did not play favorites. Maybe it was a sign of a good leader.
When he walked into the room, she could see the quiet pride on his face. Confidence. The plan had to be something big, otherwise, he wouldn't wear his feelings so openly.
"Brothers and sisters," he said as everyone sat down, "your work here has been nothing short of excellent. Your loyalty and involvement in the cause have helped us change the Capital Wasteland."
He looked about his people before continuing. "And that's precisely why we need to move onto other things. With the Enclave eradicated, Project Purity in place, and the dwindling numbers of super mutants, D.C. needs but a watchful guard, so our attention can be focused elsewhere."
Lily had a feeling that she wouldn't like what he had to say. She wouldn't like it at all.
"As many of you know," he continued, "the Institute and its synths have been a small, but persistent issue here. And the mere fact of its existence means that the Commonwealth is suffering from a problem on an unprecedented scale. Those Institute… "scientists" meddle with the technology no man should have the access to. They create abominations that go against everything that we stand for. They need to be destroyed."
Her blood ran cold as she listened to his words. She knew of the Commonwealth—all of the Brotherhood did-but never did she expect that he'd want to take the fight there. Yet another war. Another bloodshed. The killing of the innocents that sinned in nothing but in the fact that the Brotherhood did not accept their existence.
"For that reason," he said amongst the affirmative murmur, "we'll be taking the Prydwen to the Commonwealth, leaving the skeleton crew behind here in the Citadel. We'll eradicate the Institute and all of its creations, and we'll return in glory."
As he finished, a significant part of the room erupted in the battle cry only to follow with an avalanche of questions. The specifics. The date. The most effective way to deal with the synths.
Lily felt as if she was underwater, the questions hitting her from every side but details eluding her. She couldn't take it. Not like this. Maybe her fight would amount to nothing but to listen to the cheery cry of blood-thirsty, blind fools was too much for her.
"I met a synth once," she said not caring whether she interrupted someone and the whole room went silent.
Arthur turned in her direction and the way he looked at her—it was a mix of disbelief, and anger, and the nasty implication that she should have remained quiet.
"Excuse me?" He said and she felt as if air had been sucked out of the room.
She cleared her throat before speaking. "I met a synth once. He was on the run from the Institute and…" She could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on her now. "I helped him."
Were the Brotherhood the types to gasp, that'd be the prevalent noise in the room right then. But they weren't, so instead, their eyes drilled into hers with either disbelief and anger similar to that of Arthur's.
Arthur whose perfect mask looked as if it was about to crack.
"Let me get that clear, Paladin. You met the Institute robot and you let it walk? Despite the implications?" His voice was low and harsh.
Her eyes locked on his. "He wasn't a robot. He was a man," she said and one of the Outcast Paladins shook his head in disbelief.
"A man? Are you so deluded as to take them for people?"
His words stung, but she held her head high, unwilling to engage his insult.
"I don't take them for people," she said and knew that her next words would create an outrage, "they are people. They eat, sleep, bleed, and dream just as we do. And you're making a grave mistake."
"How dare you," one of the men said and Arthur silenced him with a move of his hand.
Lily didn't know what she saw in his eyes now but he was nothing like the man she knew. The coldness was overwhelming.
"That's enough," he said to her in a voice so rough that she'd fear him had they been alone.
But they weren't and she was unwilling to let go. They were all going to die out were they to proceed like this.
"You know nothing of them save for stories you heard. You're willing to…"
"I said enough," his voice thundered in the room, making some Scribes jump in their seats. "You're dismissed, Paladin."
She lifted from her seat, the atmosphere in the room so thick that it was making her dizzy. "Very well," she said before leaving and when she stumbled into the corridor, she took one deep breath after another.
Lily wasn't the type to be afraid of confrontation. Hell, she'd always take them head-on but to go like this against Arthur—it was the most intense fight she'd ever had to partake in.
Maybe it wasn't simply hard. Maybe it was impossible to change anything about him. About the Brotherhood. Her decisions up until that point flashed through her mind as she went back to their quarters.
Maybe she was wrong about it all. Maybe she should've left when Sarah died.
She took off her armor and went to the kitchen to grab a pack of Abraxo cleaner. She'd clean to calm herself down. That's what she always did in the Vault.
Or maybe that was how it was supposed to be. Nothing that happened to her once she left 101 was easy. None of it. There was always pushing and pulling, fighting, and bargaining. Project Purity never would have worked if not due to the strength of her will and the belief that she was doing the right thing.
Lily poured the cleaner on the kitchen stove and started rubbing it in with a wet sponge. Scrubbing way harder than she should have, making her fingers burn.
Maybe she was a fool. Maybe he was. Maybe they should have never married. What if she was stuck with a man who hated everything she stood for? And vice versa? No, she knew there was good in him and…
The door to their quarters flew open and then closed with a bang, Arthur approaching her with fury in his eyes.
"Lily," he barked and the fact that he used her given name was more unsettling than when he called her a Paladin. She dropped the sponge and turned around to face him, noticing how feral his expression was. "What was that?" He asked and she leaned hard into the corner to create some distance between them.
He was in her space, close and personal, and he was towering over her in a way that made her stomach clench.
"Are you out of your mind? Questioning me in front of everyone? Questioning the Brotherhood?" When normally he'd at least put up a pretense of stoicism, this time she saw the real him. He was raw and emotional, and so different from the Elder she knew. "And for what?" He spat. "For creations that should have no right to exist? Are you with or against us?"
Lily inhaled quickly, blood pumping in her ears as she looked him in the eyes.
"I'm with the Brotherhood," she said, "but I'm not for whatever you're doing with it."
She hit where it hurt; she could see the glimpse of it in his eyes before it was replaced with the heat unlike anything she'd ever seen.
"My Brotherhood is the Brotherhood," he seethed, "it's what it was always supposed to be. What Lyons did would be considered blasphemy by the Eastern chapter."
And then he took a step closer, standing so close now that they'd be chest to chest had she been taller. Her body reacted instinctively, heat pooling in her stomach as she felt his body pressed into hers.
"You're my wife," he said, his voice lower and full of angry confidence, "you'll stand by my side and watch me restore it to the former glory whether you want it or not."
He leaned in, his hot breath on her face making her shiver.
"And when you give me children, they'll be raised in those ideals. They'll become the sentinels of everything that the Brotherhood stands for."
Lily knew he spoke the truth—she could feel it in the utter confidence of his words. But the very notion that she'd fail and have to endure his self-righteousness angered her to the point of pushing into him aggressively as she spoke.
"Maybe but know that I'll take no pleasure in it. I'll detest every decision you make, all of your foolish, blood-thirsty…"
She couldn't finish because he grabbed the back of her neck and crashed his lips into hers. He was quick, the anger coming off him in waves as he wrapped one of his strong arms around her waist and held her in place.
Her body reacted instantly, heat traveling down from her stomach and settling between her legs as she returned the kiss with similar fervor, her tongue slipping into his mouth.
It was wrong—so very, very wrong.
Arthur lifted her and sat her on the counter, grabbing her thighs roughly and opening them wider so he could step between. When she felt how hard he was, a small gasp escaped her lips and it only seemed to ignite something in him.
He caught the hem of her shirt and tugged it over her head aggressively, and then lunged to her neck, kissing and licking the hot skin as she withered under his touch.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go. They were supposed to communicate. To get to know each other as husband and wife before things went any further. He wasn't supposed to ground her into the kitchen counter after they shouted in each other's faces.
But they couldn't stop herself.
Lily momentarily got away from his touch by grabbing onto the laps of his jacket and dragging it down his arms. And then she wrapped her legs around his hips, moaning as they jerked right into her core.
He grabbed her hair, pulling her head back so he had better access to her neck and then her breasts as he roughly palmed one while kissing the other. Her back arched in pleasure and she clawed on the clasps on his jumpsuit, fingers shaking as she tried to take it down.
It'd been utterly overwhelming—the desire that threatened to consume them both as they clung to each other without care for the consequences.
She managed to open his suit, the heat emanating from his skin making her dizzy. But before she could take it down, he locked her jaw in his palm, forcing her into another sloppy kiss. It was all tongue, and teeth, and need, and she moaned in response, a wave of pleasure traveling down her thighs.
His hands clasped on the belt of her trousers, pulling them down roughly along with her underwear. Then his hand was between her legs, his thick fingers spreading her in a way that made her thighs tremble. It was something she hadn't experienced in ages and the sensation messed with her head. And then there was a primal need—she wanted him to have her. She wanted to feel him buried inside and pushing her over the edge.
Lily grabbed onto his suit again, managing only to drag it halfway down his arm because he was relentless in how he worked between her legs, his fingers sliding in and out of her in a fast, rough rhythm that made her muscles spasm. She cried out, hips jerking to meet him and he finally—finally took a step back to take his clothes off.
And then he grabbed her thighs, pulling her closer to the edge of the counter before stepping between her legs. She could feel him pressing at her entrance—all hot, and heavy, and thick, and she all but shivered in response.
"Take me." Lily urged him with a whisper and he wrapped his strong arm around her as he thrusted in.
The feeling was overwhelming—threatening to undo her right then and there. She grabbed onto his arms, steadying herself as he started moving, driving into her slowly only to back-up. She watched his face, the way the pleasure painted his expression, eyes closed and muscles trembling. It made heat spike on her skin.
And then he picked up the pace, flushing her against his body. He found his rhythm, steady and hard—unforgiving almost in how he was driving into her, and breath caught in her throat as she tried to meet him. She lifted her hand to wrap it around his neck; to bring him to her lips and enjoy the little grunts coming out of his mouth, but Arthur caught her wrist mid-air.
He straightened his back, the movements of his hips becoming slow and almost painstakingly deep—each one eliciting a little moan from her lips.
He was looking at her with the same rough conviction as before, his expression relentless.
"You'll start listening to me," he said and drove into her, her body tensing in response.
She swallowed hard and he grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her closer to his face. She couldn't escape his gaze. "Say it," he uttered in a low, strained voice.
"I'll…" He thrusted inside again, pleasure sparking in the pit of her stomach. "I'll listen to you."
"You'll do whatever I say." His eyes were locked on hers, the authority mixed with a raw need making her tremble.
"Yes," she managed to say, her body giving in, eyes closing as she felt her release coming.
"Yes," he repeated satisfied, his hips slamming into hers.
He brought her lips to his, hand tangling in her hair as he picked up the pace again, and she could feel release spilling from between her legs. She managed to grab onto his arm, nails digging into the skin, before she came hard, head spinning as her body trashed around him.
And from the haze, she could feel him finish too, filling her just as she'd desired moments before, his deep grunt satisfying a different kind of need somewhere deep inside of her.
Lily thought he'd step back now the things were over, but instead, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his hands drawing circles on her back. She didn't know what to say and neither did he by the looks of things. There was too much to consider—too much to even start to talk.
"I think that I—we need a shower," she muttered finally and he simply nodded his head in response.
The lines were blurry anyway.
Arthur washed her body, his hands traveling on her skin as she lightly joked about his gruff expression. Then she washed him, asking him to kneel so she could have easier access to his head. And when she finished rinsing the shampoo from his hair, he grabbed her hips and buried his face between her legs, the running water silencing the sounds of her pleasure.
He had her again when they lied in bed after, bodies tangling and rolling in the sheets before they fell asleep.
The complete sobriety of mind returned to her in the morning. Lily might have been hopelessly attracted to him and she might have thought he wasn't, at the very core, a bad man, but she also couldn't blindly accept something she deemed so wrong and foolish. This was not her way. This shouldn't have been the Brotherhood's way either.
"Arthur," she said as they lied turned towards each other. "Will we ever change?"
He was quiet for a few seconds, his expression unreadable.
"No," he said while looking into his eyes. "Maybe," he added as he cupped her cheek in his hand.
Then maybe there still was a chance. He was a proud man—a man of a singular goal. He believed in what was imposed on him as the last of his bloodline. But he wasn't a fool. Nor a brute. He wasn't unwilling to change.
Despite his stubbornness and conviction, her actions and words must have been getting to him. He'd never admit it, she knew as much, but she also knew he was always waging his options. Always wondering what the next best step would be.
The thought filled her with a certain sense of comfort.
"Come here," she whispered and pressed her lips into his, the new-found hope making her smile against him.