Chapter Text
Waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to an alarm clock in a small pseudo-dormitory reminded Addy an awful lot of law school, even if she was waking up on a giant metal blimp. It smelled a little worse here, though. But just about everything did, these days.
Addy pulled herself to sit up in her shitty cot with a great deal of effort, and stood with even more effort. She’d forgotten what mission it was that currently waited for her, that warranted such a painful wakeup, but she’d need her head on straight in a second. Paladin Danse was not one for complaining or, God forbid, tardiness. His hard ass was cute, but still hard.
She had yet to make a perfect impression with the Brotherhood, still managing—struggling—to get any footing at all on post-war ground. Allies were in short supply, it seemed, so Addy would take any she could get. Even if one of those allies was a gun-hungry paramilitary order, chock full of folks a little too reminiscent of the friends her late husband made in the army, led by a man over a decade her junior who was already graying. This beggar couldn’t exactly choose.
Danse wasn’t the same jagged steel that was the great Elder Maxson, but he wasn’t a teddy bear, either. She’d seen the way his dark eyes regarded her over and over as someone who needed protection, not a woman who could hold her own. Someone who deserved his pity, his pompous direction, his expert criticism until she molded into a perfect soldier. He took on a “substantial risk” taking her under his wing—so he’d told her that first day, brow set like iron and voice so gravelled Addy had felt it in her own chest—and she’d best not reflect poorly on him. Maybe that’s what he was waiting on, some slip-up that would deem her unworthy. Maybe he’d already decided she wasn’t up to snuff.
Or maybe she just wasn’t a morning person. The sunrise was making her bitter.
Addy wrestled on the provided orange-gray jumpsuit that squeezed much too uncomfortably around the stomach. She threw her hair up in a clip behind her head and tossed a jacket around her shoulders, one she’d snagged from Diamond City, some shred of individualism in a sea of sameness. And then she headed from her dorm to the Prydwen’s main deck.
She mentally braced herself for a pre-mission reprimanding for some crime she’d yet to even commit, or a lecture on the importance of laser rifle safety, or a sideways snipe about looking so civilian. But she didn’t immediately catch sight of the soldier she was meant to meet.
A surprising amount of Brotherhood souls roamed the makeshift mess hall at this hour, which Addy supposed was nearly their afternoon, whereas she was still yawning. Some army wife she’d been.
Addy hovered for a moment, aimless, awkward, as the bustle calmly churned around her. A few men offered a “morning,” some a silent nod. She tucked herself beside the wall, scanned through the schools of fish ahead of her, and managed to spot the guppy she was looking for.
Paladin Danse faced away from her, decked in metal. Addy wasn’t sure how she missed the giant tin can at first, his power armor anything but discreet, but everything in here was so monotonously silver, he’d simply camouflaged. He was kneeling, too, occupied in some task, his big hands on big steel thighs.
Addy saw the children, then. The little gaggle of three “squires,” she remembered they were called, gathered in front of the soldier and blabbed away. No more than seven years old, the boys stood at almost-attention, clearly a bit too antsy for total composure, and stared up at the Paladin with a sort of reverence. The kind of awe found only in little boys when they watched superhero movies.
Fascinated, Addy slunk forward, stuck still to the side wall. And she listened.
“I heard in report from Knight Wagner about your weapons training. Excellent progress.” Paladin Danse affirmed pointedly, addressing each boy with the same severe stare. They didn’t wilt beneath it, instead blooming with grins. “You’ve moved on to field-stripping already?”
“I’m down below two minutes, sir!” One boy saluted so aggressively Addy feared he may punch himself in his own small forehead.
“I am, too!” shouted another.
“That is very impressive.” Danse commended with his whole chest. “I’ll be sure to pass along to the Elder how pleased I am with your work.”
“You mean it?” marveled the third, bouncing on his feet.
Danse nodded shortly. “You three will be moving up the ranks in no time at all.”
The first boy blinked his big eyes and tapped his chin, almost with theatrical flair. “...Up, you say?”
At that, Danse hung his head, dropping his scruffy chin to his metal chest. Addy thought for a moment he might raise it back up in disappointment, but then she heard him laugh.
Breathless, deep. Exasperated but playfully so. The sound brightened the air. Danse sighed. “Alright. But just the once.”
The boys snickered, victorious, socking one another in the shoulder as Danse squared up, preparing for…something.
The steel-clad Paladin squatted down all the way, then flexed his arms out on either side of himself, posed like some kind of sumo wrestler. Or more appropriately, an action figure. The boys each took to an arm, two on the right and one on the left, and wrapped their little hands around the enormous metal biceps above them.
“Ready?” Danse asked, and they all nearly squealed.
Then he straightened at the knees, stretching to his full impressive height, lifting the boys into the air as if they weighed less than nothing. Which, to him, they probably did.
They shrieked in delight as their little feet came loose from the floor, dangling their legs as they held on for dear life. Danse gave a very convincing T-rex roar as he swung the boys around on his arms, as if he were made of monkey bars. Addy bit down on her first three knuckles, smothering the snort that threatened to escape.
He let the boys be tall for another moment or so, swaying his huge fists a bit so their legs swayed, too. The mess hall filled with the shrill giggles of children, and it was the most human this place had felt so far.
Danse slowly lowered the boys back down to the floor, waiting until six feet were safely on silver before retreating. He stood back up with another sure nod. “Better get going back to Wagner. Until next time, recruits.”
“Bye, Paladin!” The boys took turns saying, and they raced away, weaving through their fellow soldiers on their way out of the mess hall. They sped past Addy, who hid on the outskirts. She watched some more as Danse recomposed himself. He readjusted his armor, took stock of the weapon across his back and its ammunition, waited for his apprentice, who was probably burgeoning on late. She couldn’t play wallflower any longer.
Addy jogged over, then skidded to a halt beside her sponsor. Danse barely lifted his head as he greeted her.
“Knight,” he grumbled in her direction. When he did look her way, though, she received a particularly suspicious crease of his huge brow. Regardless of whatever whimsy Addy had just witnessed, Danse slathered this stern front right back on with ease. He narrowed his very brown eyes at her. “In a good mood this morning?”
Addy considered herself from his perspective, and felt what must’ve been the ghost of a smirk still stuck to her face. Oh, she wanted to grin.
She cleared her throat. “Just a morning person, is all.”
He grunted. “I see.” He went back to adjusting his power armor and began to lead her to the flight deck without so much as glancing back to see if she was behind him. The wind whipped her hair, while his hid underneath that silly contraption. She strained to hear him as he called over the whistling, “Then you should have no trouble meeting with me on time from here on. Understood?”
Addy was still working on beating that smile into submission. “Copy.”
“Good.” If he heard the struggle in her reply, he didn’t show it. Instead, he paused as they headed toward the vertibird currently docked for them. He fixed her with that stare again, but she was having trouble being entirely intimidated by it.
Paladin Danse said, “I trust that having you aboard will serve us all well, Knight.”
Addy did smile this time, just a little. She teased, testing the waters. “You can just use my name, Paladin.”
Danse seemed to struggle with that. But he nodded curtly and corrected, “Adelaide.”
She shook her head. “Just Addy.”
“Addy,” he tried again, and she beamed. The nod he gave this time was softer. It was then she noticed a lot of his face was soft, actually. His eyes most of all. She could suddenly see a face a child might trust.
She debated saying something, but decided against it.
Danse gestured for her to go ahead, like a gentleman might. “Let’s go.”