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The Right Choice

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He’d kept it to himself in the past, pulling out of the few people he’d had a chance to fuck. Infertility was more common than not, but he didn’t want to risk the occasional willing knight or scribe he’d taken a brief interest in to have that kind of power and control over him.

But she was different. She was clean, and healthy, frozen in a Vault for two centuries. She’d risen from Initiate to Knight, to Paladin, and finally Sentinel in a short period of time, proven her loyalty with so many hard decisions, and he had no doubt at this point that she was fully loyal to the Brotherhood. And to him.

Their relationship had been circumspect, and proper. Professional. They were pleasant and polite, they liked and respected each other. And so when his higher-ups urged him to make a decision and choose a mate, she was his first choice. They would get along fine, and she would make a good mother, judging by her kindness to the squires, and their ideals and goals were aligned.

He had come to her with a proposal, and she had asked him questions. She wanted to know about the expectations he would have of her, and that the Brotherhood would have, and whether she would be required to give up her position as Sentinel, and finally, when she was satisfied with the answers, she had agreed.

Knight-Captain Kells had officiated the wedding, an archaic tradition that was not commonly used any longer. But the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel and last of the Maxson line was not a common man, and so traditions were observed. He had more than just himself to think of. The small group present applauded as he pressed his lips to her cheek, this being the first time he had ever touched his skin to hers.

After a subdued meal, they retreated to his quarters. Their quarters, he amended to himself. “I cleared out some space for your things in the dresser, Sentinel,” he said.

She laughed, a low, melodic sound he realized he’d never heard before. “I think you can call me Matilda now….Arthur.”

He smiled at her. He supposed she was right. She stood awkwardly to the side for a moment and he watched her for a moment, before he realized she was waiting for him to do something. He wasn’t sure what to do, he realized. His previous encounters had been quick and sweaty, one time events that weren’t repeated. But this was his wife. He wanted a pleasant relationship with her. They were to be a family, and so he must take care.

He offered her a drink, and she declined, and so he offered her the bathroom to freshen up, and she smiled gratefully and went into the ensuite. While he waited, he hung his coat up and looked around the room, wondering what she thought of it. His room was utilitarian, his few books and personal possessions stowed out of sight. He had much more in his suite at the Citadel, but he didn’t expect to be back there again for at least a year.

He looked up as she came back in the room. She had changed to a soft, loose gown that was a similar pale blue to her eyes. Her shoulders were bare and unmarked, but a deep scar ran from her collarbone and disappeared into her gown. She reached up and removed something from her hair, which caused it to tumble around her shoulders in a chocolate cloud. His mouth went dry.

He had always found her pleasant enough to look at, he supposed, but it wasn’t until her hair tumbled around her smooth shoulders that he realized how attractive she was. She was usually bound in armour, her hair knotted up or braided, and often covered in dirt or smudges. But not tonight. Tonight she was soft and pretty, her loose hair falling to her breasts, which were plump and straining at the gown. His eyes followed the line of it to the soft round bump of her belly, past the curve of her thighs to where it ended just past her knees.

She watched him right back, a small smile curling up the corner of her mouth.

“Are you going to take off that jumpsuit?” she asked, and he nodded mutely.

He watched her watching him as he removed his black jumpsuit, hoping she was pleased with his appearance. The gleam in her eye indicated that maybe she was, and he subconsciously puffed up a little with pride.

Once his suit was gone, she stepped up to him and placed one hand on his chest, running her fingers lightly through the hair there. He reached up and twined his fingers into her hair, letting the silky strands run through his fingers, and then bent down to press his lips to hers.

She tasted of the wine and mirelurk stew they had been served for a wedding dinner. He pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, and her breath fanned against his face for a moment, and then he kissed her again, more urgently this time as his brain caught up to what his body was telling him: that she was his, his wife, the chosen mother of his children.

He pulled the flimsy gown off over her head. His mouth worked its way down to her breast. He licked at it for a moment and then took the nipple in his mouth, sucking at her the way one day his offspring would.

He felt her fingers in his hair, heard her quiet moan of pleasure, and smiled, pleased that he could please her. He moved to the other breast, working it with his tongue, and he let his hand massage the one he had just abandoned. They were full and gloriously soft, and he groaned at the thought of them one day filling with milk.

It soon became apparent that she wanted more. When she tugged his head back up to hers and kissed him hungrily, he kissed her back, and allowed her to push him over to the bed. But once there, he took over, turning her and laying her down, removing her underwear and then his own, trying hard not to break their kiss, although he failed at that a time or two.

He nudged her thighs apart with his knee and slipped his fingers into her soft, damp curls, finding her folds slick already. But he wanted to give her pleasure first, to thank her for the gift she was trying to give him. He slid his fingers gently around her sex until he found the firm bud of her clit, and he manipulated it gently with his fingertips, catching her gasps in his mouth and smiling when he felt her arch up into his palm. He worked a finger into her to feel the pulsing of her orgasm as she flooded into his hand.

By the time she settled back down he was aching to be inside her. He poised himself above her and waited for her to open her eyes to look at him. When she finally did, he smiled and kissed her, groaning as she grasped him gently and guided him into her still-fluttering heat.

She was so hot and tight it took several thrusts to seat himself fully within her, but once he did, and she stretched to accommodate his size, she wrapped her legs around his hips and urged him on, whispering to him to go faster, harder, and he complied, burying his face in the soft skin of her neck as he flexed into her again and again, straining towards the release he knew was close but simultaneously wanting to delay his gratification so he could remain within her forever.

Nothing lasts forever, though, and soon the coiled tension in his spine released and he flooded her, filling her up with his very essence, pushing himself in harder to fill all the corners of her womb with his seed, and he felt her tightening around him as she came along with him, her walls milking him and sucking him dry.

He was reluctant to withdraw, but soon his elbows couldn’t hold him up any longer, and so he slipped out and rolled to the side, breathless. She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them tightly. He looked at her curiously.

“It’s what I did when we were trying...before,” she explained. He saw the shadow of sadness pass across her features briefly. Her son had died when they had destroyed the Institute. It was a choice he knew had hurt her. He reached up to touch her face, and she smiled at him. “It helps keep everything inside, I guess. I don’t know if it actually helps, but I felt like it did.”

It was at that moment that Arthur was certain, more certain than he had been before by a thousandfold, that he had made the right choice.


Four months after their wedding and two disappointing periods later, Matilda found herself three weeks late, and her heavy, painful breasts and bone deep exhaustion indicated to her that a trip to see Knight-Captain Cade was in order. He confirmed her suspicions with a smile, and asked her about nausea and other symptoms. She was relieved to have avoided morning sickness, but not surprised having not suffered from it during her last pregnancy either.

There was a lightness in her step as she left his office and went in search of Arthur to give him the good news.

His reaction was not what she had expected.

She had anticipated joy, and pride, and those were there, but she had not anticipated his cerulean eyes going dark navy with lust, or him taking her hand and pulling her quickly to their quarters. Once inside, he stripped her quickly and carried her to the bed, thrusting inside her urgently. Apparently her condition inspired an incredible amount of lust in him, and the soupy mess her hormones had become made her more than ready to accommodate him.

They stayed in their quarters the rest of the day, and she spent the day alternating between napping and luxuriating under his mouth and hands as he worshipped her body.


Three months later, she ran her fingers through his hair as he rested his cheek on the soft swell of her belly, and he felt movement for the first time. She had been feeling it for weeks now, but this was the first time Arthur had been in the right place at the right time. She glowed with pleasure at the beaming smile on his face, and then she glowed harder when he kissed his way down her belly to her apex, where he nuzzled his nose into her folds and licked her until she came hard, her hands still clenched in his hair. When he climbed over her and kissed her, she tasted her arousal on his lips.

She groaned as he pushed inside her, gently avoiding bottoming out inside her and hitting her sensitive cervix, and she shivered in pleasure as he came inside her, his body desperately trying to do what it had already accomplished.


Matilda had wandered up to the Command Deck to chat with her husband from the comfort of the red benches that lined the room, and was sitting there absently watching her belly roll and bulge when the first pain hit. She gasped in discomfort and no small amount of sudden panic, and Arthur noticed and rushed to her side. He pulled her to her feet and held her shoulders as another pain hit, and he insisted on bringing her to the medical bay. She insisted it was too early, but he wouldn’t hear of it, and so she was left smirking at him when Cade told them to go away and walk around for a while until her water broke or the pains came closer together.

After that, Arthur paid more attention to her greater experience in this field of expertise, and together they walked the halls of the Prydwen until the wee hours of the morning, and then they found themselves back in the medical bay again, this time to stay.

Just as the sun crept over the horizon and shone through the windows of the empty Command Deck, Matilda gave one final push and delivered Florence Jane Maxson safely into her father’s arms. Matilda smiled weakly at him, and he beamed back at her, pleased that he had made the right choice.


The doctor told them six weeks but Matilda was sensitive and Arthur was afraid of hurting her, so it was nearly ten weeks later when they found a quiet hour while Flo visited Ingram in the Power Armour bay. Ingram had taken a particular liking to the child, and had convinced Matilda and Arthur that the baby was safe with her while they took a little time to themselves.

Arthur had watched her nurse the baby multiple times, but it hadn’t occurred to him that it would affect him until he unthinkingly tongued her nipple and tasted sweetness that hadn’t been there before. He felt Mattie cover her face in embarrassment but he pulled her hands away and looked her in the eyes.

“It’s beautiful. I love it. I love you.” he said. He’d never said that before, and her heart thumped in her chest uncomfortably. They’d been married well over a year, and although she knew he liked and respected her, and wanted her too, she didn’t know that he loved her. And she knew that she loved him back. She’d known it for a long time.

When she said the words back, he kissed her, pressing kisses to her face and neck, his beard tickling the skin behind her ear until she giggled softly. Her giggles turned to moans as he turned back to her breasts and lapped at her hungrily, using his teeth and tongue to elicit cries from her. His fingers crept between her legs, touching her gingerly, but there was no discomfort. Before long she pushed him onto his back and sat astride him, guiding him into her slowly, and he lay still, allowing her to set the pace.

It soon became clear that her desired pace was fast. She’d felt as deprived as he had these last few weeks, and he watched her through hooded eyes as she rode him hard, chasing her release, and when she came pulsing on his cock he grasped her by the hips and thrust hard into her a few times until he came too. He caught her as she fell forward into his arms, his wife, the mother of his child, and the love of his life.

He knew he’d made the right choice.