Ladyhawkeye
"Impossible," The teenager muttered to himself. "Nothing is…impossible."
He could taste the mud, the filth entering his mouth as he continued his journey towards freedom. The smell, at least, wasn't terrible. Damp earth was hardly the worst scent on earth. He wished it wasn't all over him though.
The terribly small confines he found himself in were cramped. Cramped, wet, cold, and muddy. He crawled forward at what felt like a snail's pace, barely able to wriggle forward and maneuver the small space to continue making his way through the earth he contemplated his predicament.
The space was so small that had he been any bigger…
He scoffed, stopping the thought.
"I'm not small," he muttered to no one.
Maybe he hadn't escaped at all and this was some type of purgatory.
He entertained the thought for a few moments as he inched forward.
Purgatory and not hell because while his predicament was far from desirable it was not torturous enough to be called Hell. But it was frustrating and horrible enough that it could warrant the intermediary called Purgatory.
God, what he wouldn't give to stand and stretch his arms…To bathe.
Admittedly he would at least come out of this experience with a whole new respect for earth worms.
The sensation of wet earth squishing and moving as he did, trapped in his clothes, his hair, his skin, was one he could live without. He was cold, and filthy, and wholly miserable in his endeavor, though determined to see it through. He had no other choice other than to see it through.
He wasn't about to die and leave his brother alone.
"Come on Fullmetal….Dig." He wasn't sure if encouraging himself was actually helping or just a sign of how exhausted he was. But something about the half sarcastic bitter muttering encouragements amused him, if only privately.
"Dig…"
Finally his fingers made it through the damp layer of earth…and he felt air.
Yes!
His exhaustion momentarily forgotten he attacked the, hopefully, last barrier between him and freedom with renewed energy.
"Two more!" the dark haired knight ordered.
"Who?"
"I want Edward Elric," was the curt reply.
He followed as the man led him through the dank prison, he wrinkled his nose at the smell, but smiled at the look of abject misery on the faces of the prisoners he passed. There were the echoing shrieks of a man as he struggled and he took a moment to relish in the sound as they walked.
"This is the cell, sir."
Solf Kimblee walked into the indicated cell, blue eyes scanning the area and only finding one chained prisoner. One who was definitely not Edward Elic.
"Wrong cell. I want Edward Elric, the one they call Fullmetal."
"Fullmetal?" A high, amused voice asked. Kimblee turned towards the prisoner "Fullmetal…Fullmetal just couldn't settle!" Kimblee crouched in front of the filthy prisoner as the man spoke. "No Fullmetal today, he's runaway. To ease the pain he's-" here the man snickered. "-he's down the drain!"
Kimblee drew his sword, bringing it down forcefully only inches away from the prisoner.
"Where is he!?"
"I already told you, gentle lord!" The man was no longer amused, wide frightened eyes switching from the blade to the man holding it.
"Hang him," he ordered the other knight. "Search every sewer and every drain! Or I'll hang you in his place," he warned.
He paid no attention as the prisoner was dragged from the cell to meet his fate.
"Impossible…No one could have escaped through there…" He muttered, examining the small opening.
With one last displaced chunk of earth and stone he was finally free of his cramped confines.
Edward stretched his arm forward, both in an attempt to drag the rest of himself through the opening and to stretch the cramped limb.
"It's not unlike escaping mom's womb…" he muttered, then grimaced at his own comment. "God, what a memory."
His stomach swooped as he fell, he had a millisecond to prepare for the cold water that greeted him. Spluttering he broke the surface.
Fate must be laughing at him, wishing for a bath only moments ago and now he was spluttering from the forced and unexpected dunk in the water.
The current carried him along as he sputtered and struggled to get his bearings. His heart practically leaped from his chest when he saw a dark shaped form swimming in front of him, and headed straight at him. Some type of animal? Whatever it was anything was dangerous and he thought it better to assume the worst.
Thinking quickly Edward grabbed at the brick walls, finding an arch with an accompanying ledge and scrambling atop of the precarious perch.
"Lord…I'll never pick another pocket for as long as I live, I swear." He readjusted his grip. "Now here's the problem," he coughed, still breathing heavily from exertion. "How can I live up to my word if I don't live?"
"If you hear me…This ledge will remain steady." His eyes drifted fearfully towards the ominous object floating-swimming?-towards him. "And that thing coming towards me won't be what I think it is." He kept his eyes on the object, continuing his monologue. If he could keep himself in high spirits then his situation wasn't so bad. "If it is…No hard feelings." he reassured any listening deity. "But I'd be very disappointed."
If worst came to worse he could fight. He wasn't in the best shape to do so, but if he didn't have a choice it would hardly matter. He was freezing and weak with hunger, the bruises he'd sustained during his capture and imprisonment still fresh.
He watched, heart pounding and still out of breath as the object continued closer.
It wasn't moving, really, which made him think it was an object and not some monster.
Edward let out a sigh of relief as it floated near enough to be identified.
A cow's skull. Ominous, but not dangerous.
"I don't believe it," he chuckled, eyeing the skull as it floated past him.
Then he heard it.
Singing.
"I really don't believe it…"
He got down from his perch, re-entering the water.
He shivered, the water reaching his waist as he waded through it towards the-quite literally-heavenly sound of song towards its source. He thought he recognized it as some church hymn or another, but honestly it could have been a drinking song and it would have sounded like angel's singing anyways.
It led him to a latter, where it led he didn't know. It was a possible way out and Ed was going to take it.
He clawed up the rusty rungs, exhausted and cold.
"You won't regret this, God," he said quietly, grinning at his own humor. "I'm a good person." He wasn't sure he entirely believed that, but bad people lived all the time.
Hopefully whatever merciful deity had decided to spare him some luck in his escape would not be offended by his lie.
He made it to the top, the light filtering through the grill the best thing he'd seen in days.
Freedom.
But a tough metal grill and what appeared to be a crowded church of people stood in the way. There was no way he was going to get out through here, at least not while mass was in session.
Okay so sticking his fingers through the grill was a pretty stupid move.
He could admit that as he swam upwards in his quest for air.
His fingers felt as if they had been broken by the heavy boots that had stepped on them.
And maybe his assertion of being a 'good' person had offended some deity and it had decided to resend it's boon.
Still his fingers getting crushed underneath heavy boots had hurt, he just hoped his yelp of pain and subsequent splash hadn't alerted the wrong people of his location or he'd be meeting whatever deity there was all too soon.
Underwater, he noticed an opening, another passage. There were metal bars blocking the way, but there was a damaged corner that he could fit through. Despite his misgivings Edward decided to take his chances.
He was starting to regret it-air was in low supply-when he finally caught a glimpse of light through the water's surface.
He broke though and gasped, greedily gulping down air and attempting to take in his new surroundings. His golden hair was plastered against his face and obscured his vision but he could see that his gamble had paid off.
He was outside.
In the moat, to be precise.
He kept only his nose and eyes above water as he observed his new surroundings. He was hardly out of trouble now.
He needed supplies and he needed to get as far away from the prison as possible.
Spotting two distracted guards near the water's edge Edward swam closer, ready to dunk underwater if either of the men turned around to spot him.
Perfect, he thought with a grin.
He saw a knife that had been carelessly left unattended, Edward grabbed it. With his new weapon he cut the feeble string tying a money bag to one of the guard's waist.
"I know I promised never again." Edward whispered as he swam away. "But I also know that you know what a weak willed person I am…" Now he had to go and find his brother.
Al was safe, he had to be. Alphonse was safe.
Alone…vulnerable…sick…Edward shook his head. His little brother was safe. Not locked up, that was for sure.
She contemplated the half written letter in front of her, wondering what else she wanted to say.
Everything was the simple, and honest, answer. But a letter couldn't encompass such a vast statement.
The night air was crisp and goose bumps raised on her arms as the wind picked up. The fresh scent of tree sap and wet earth permeated the air.
The moon's light was only visible through a cloud that she could barely make out through the forest's canopy.
She looked up from the paper; she checked first the fire and then turned her attention to her companion.
The large black furred wolf was just outside of the fire's immediate light, content to watch from the shadows of the night. He seemed more cautious tonight, ears flickering in every direction at each new sound. She supposed that it may be credited to the fact that they had never been in this area before.
Well, they had. But not since…
She shook her head. It didn't matter, that was years ago.
Her grip on the pen tightened. Years…Sadness and longing washed over her at the thought.
Years since she'd been able to see him for any longer than a few short moments. Years since she'd been able to enjoy the sun or he the moon.
What a pathetic pair they were.
She wrote a line she must have written over a hundred times by now, just as he had.
Writing and reading the words never felt any easier, any less sorrowful or any less truthful no matter how many times they appeared.
I miss you.
Riza shivered as a cool breeze picked up, she brought up the dark hood of her cloak. The wolf wandered closer until it stood at her side, gentle she ran a hand through the fur at its neck, the creature leaning into the touch. He was warm and she had to move her unfinished letter out of the way as he settled his head on her lap.
Nearby Hayate raised his head then set it back down when he saw that nothing interesting had happened. Over the sound of the fire she could hear the horse adjust its footing from where it had been tied earlier in the day.
"How am I going to finish writing this with you in my lap?" She asked him quietly, smiling sadly as she set her things aside.
Of course the wolf didn't answer, still she felt a painful sort of comfort from his near presence.
Sighing she bent her head, resting it atop of his. He was warm and his fur was soft against her skin. She closed her eyes and felt her heart clench.
Both of them had run out of tears by now but it still hurt. His fur was the same color as his hair, his eyes the same shade of blue-gray that she longed to see.
"I'm sorry, Roy."
Roy shifted and let out a low whine, Riza knew he didn't understand why she was upset, didn't understand her words at all, and it only hurt more.
"I'm so sorry…"
A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review! I'm not sure how many chapters this will end up being, maybe three or four, depending on how long they end up being.