Lan Fan didn't know how so many assassins made it this deep into the imperial palace, but she knew damn well that they couldn't have done so without help. She also knew that when she found whoever had helped the Xingese Traditionalist Brotherhood infiltrate palace grounds she would feed them their own fingers. Make no mistake, the guards would not be getting off easy either. The insurgents numbered a dozen but they were neither as well trained nor as well equipped as the imperial guard and still the guard failed in their one, and only, duty.
Furious, Lan Fan deftly stuck her dagger into her opponent's eye socket and let the man flail for a moment while she surveyed the battle. Twelve, soon to be eleven rebels fought with the inhabitants of the innermost section of the palace. Behind her, His Imperial Majesty Ling Yao directed a pair of unlucky servants into his private chambers while dueling an assassin with his favored Dao sword. In front of her, in the court yard, five of her soldiers fought six of the rebels while to the left, Amestrian ambassador to Xing Alphonse Elric trapped another four with an enormous hand conjured from the ground. While she watched, Lan Fan saw a guard go down, hard, with a thud and a pained exclamation. A bolt jutted cruelly out of his neck. There were thirteen assassins, then. Lan Fan berated herself for not considering that the insurgents would bring an archer or a sniper. She turned on her heel, arm striking out to slit the throat of her opponent, still blinded. As the man fell, she shouted
"Crossbow on the north roof!" She heard a series of confirmations that her warning was heard and went to help a struggling guard. As she moved, she felt something fly past her ear and heard the tell-tale scream of a crossbow bolt cutting through air. Ice crawled its way down her spine and time seemed to slow to half speed as she turned to look behind her, praying that the projectile had missed its target. It had not. Her emperor stood above the body of the rebel he had been fighting, clutching his abdomen as the servants behind him stared on in terror. Ling looked to his stomach with an expression of betrayal and his mouth silently formed the word "what" before he collapsed against the wall.
In the seven years since The Promised Day, the Elric-Rockbell home had seen its fair share of visitors. Most were neighbors, friends and family. Some were hopeful students of alchemy, seeking tutelage from a man who was rumored to have been the greatest alchemist of the century. Those he sent to his own teacher, and usually they didn't come back. Foreign dignitaries had graced their doorstep, or in the case of one pair of mooches, an upstairs windowsill. The family had been hounded by military stooges, trying to convince one or both of them to work for the Fuhrer, first Grumman, then Mustang. In recent years the steady stream of visitors had slowed to a trickle, mostly friends. So, it was unusual, but not alarming, that one morning at 7 o'clock exactly, Edward Elric opened his front door to see newly promoted Captain Riza Hawkeye standing on his welcome mat.
"Oh," he said, surprised. "Hey, Riza. Long time no see. What brings you around here so early?"
"May I come inside, Ed?" She declined to answer his question.
"Uh sure," he moved aside and gestured in the direction of the kitchen. "We actually just finished making breakfast, if you want any." Riza made her way inside.
"I'm alright, but thank you." She looked over her shoulder at him. "Winry's here too?" Ed nodded. "Good, she'll most likely want hear this now too." They reached the kitchen, and Riza motioned towards the table. "Take a seat." Ed graciously did not comment on being offered a chair in his own home, and sat next his son, who was babbling happily in his highchair.
"Hiya Riza," Winry had heard her husband's conversation with the captain, and brought over three cups of coffee. "How's central treating you? Keeping you busy I bet." Riza took the coffee offered her, but did not drink from it nor answer Winry. She watched the steam twisting up from the drink for a long moment. Ed opened his mouth to ask her again why she was there, but Riza cut him off, speaking without looking at either of them.
"I wish," she began. "That I was good enough at this kind of thing to know how to tell you this. But I'm not, and I don't, so I'll just have to say it frankly." She looked Ed in the eye. "Ling Yao is dead."
Winry's hand flew to her mouth. Ed didn't move or change his expression.
"What do you mean Ling's dead?" He swallowed hard. "What, what happened?"
"A rebel group attacked the imperial palace last night. Alphonse called Central this morning on the direct line. He said the insurgents made it as far as the area that houses the emperor's private quarters and those of esteemed guests. There were thirteen of them; twelve on the ground and an archer with a crossbow on the roof. The archer went unnoticed with the fighting on the ground and took the opportunity to strike down a guard and Emperor Yao. Alphonse did what he could, but neither alchemy nor alkahestry can save someone when they've already bled out." As Riza related the events of the assassination, Ed's hand tightened into a fist. When she finished, though, it went slack and he seemed to deflate.
"Fuck," his voice broke. The room was silent, except for the baby, for several moments until Winry took her hand from her mouth.
"Are Al and Lan Fan alright? Is Mei okay?" she asked.
"Alphonse said he and Lan Fan were both unharmed, and that Mei was away visiting her home province at the time of the attack. She already knows about her brother's death. Al called her first. Aside from the guard and the emperor, there were no casualties." Ed swore softly under his breath again.
"Did they at least get the bastards who did it?"
"They captured all the rebels who hadn't been killed in the main battle," Riza shook her head "But they had arsenic pills, and none of them survived long enough to be questioned." There were another few minutes of silence while each of them gathered their thoughts. The captain stood, but didn't move from the table. "I am sorry," she began. "I know he was a friend. But if it's any consolation, Al said that he went into shock soon after being shot. It wasn't a quick death, but it should have been fairly painless." Ed simply shook his head, eyes planted firmly on the ground. Winry brought a hand to his shoulder and addressed Riza again.
"When's the funeral?"
"The state funeral is in two weeks, to allow time for any foreign representatives to travel to Xing." She looked between the couple, and for the first time, her eyes flicked to their son. "Al said that you two should come right away; so you have time to say your goodbyes before the circus and politics start."
"We'll leave as soon as we can," Winry assured her. Riza nodded and, with one last apology, left the couple to their grief.
