Chapter 1: Starting Off (On the Wrong Foot)
Blaze looked up from her cluttered desk when the tarnished silver windchimes on the door jingled cheerfully. Her two latest customers meandered in: a man wearing a dusty suit of antique armor and a young boy, maybe twelve or thirteen, with loosely braided blond hair. They were an odd couple, but they were also potential revenue. Blaze smiled her welcome smile and picked up a pen. "Good evening, sirs," she chirped, polite and spiffy. "Can I help you?" She looked at the one whom she assumed was the father.
"Um, hello," the armor-clad one. He had the high-pitched voice of a prepubescent boy, which destroyed her theory that he was the adult. "We're looking for rooms...?"
She beckoned him forward and assured him, "You're in the right place. One room, two beds?"
"Yes, please," he said. "Could we have a private bathroom?"
Blaze was delighted. There were only two rooms with private bathrooms, and they cost considerably more the others. "Of course. How long will you be staying?"
"Just the night, I think." He glanced behind him, where the short blond was studying an abstract painting on the wall. "Brother?"
Brother? she wondered, raising her eyebrows. Nothing short of gigantism would have made an under-twelve grow that big. Or perhaps the older brother suffered from dwarfism. "Just tonight?" she asked, raising her voice when there was no answer.
"Just tonight," the brother confirmed, his eyes still on the painting.
The girl twisted a strand of auburn hair around her finger as she recorded this in the account book and then rotated it to face the young boy/man. "40,562 cens," she said, handing him the pen. "Please write your names here." Blaze indicated the line just in case he didn't get it. She hated it when lodgers signed on the wrong line.
The armor-clad man's handwriting was small and precise, each letter so perfectly formed and evenly spaced that she could have mistaken it for typewriting. She read the names upside down as he wrote them, and her jaw dropped open. Alphonse and Edward Elric? The Elric Brothers? The Full Metal Alchemist? Is this for real?
"Is something wrong, Miss, um..." he trailed off awkwardly.
Blaze stared at the red-rimmed blue eyes that peeked out of the helmet, slightly awed. Of course. He was Alphonse Elric, the fourteen-year-old brother to the Full Metal Alchemist. He almost always was mistaken for his brother, and she could see why. After all his older brother... She glanced away to Edward Elric and was struck by how very short he was. She'd heard the rumors, but Blaze had expected someone more impressive than the red-jacketed midget.
"Miss?"
She blinked and shook her head, smiling apologetically. "40,562 cens," she repeated.
"Brother," Al called. "We have to pay."
Edward Elric yawned as he walked up to her desk, covering his mouth with a white-gloved hand. His eyes were half-closed as he pulled bills and coins from his wallet and dropped them on the desk. His lips counted silently. "25,672," he mumbled when his wallet was emptied. "Is there any way we can pay on credit or...?"
She arched an eyebrow. Weren't State Alchemists supposed to be rich? Perhaps these were fakes, trying to cheat her. Blaze studied them critically. Travel-worn clothing, guarded faces, lack of money... If she looked very closely, she could just see a thin silver chain trailing from Ed's right pocket, but it could easily be a fake. "On what credit?" she asked finally.
"I'm a State Alchemist?"
It wasn't hard for her to turn her smile into a skeptical grimace. "How about this," she offered generously to the pair of liars as she sorted the coins and bills into her cash box, "I'll put you in a cheaper room, something within your budget."
"I don't suppose you'd offer us a discount?"
"Why?"
"Goodwill?" he suggested hopefully.
She laughed, genuinely amused. "I might be willing to shave off a couple hundred cens, but that's a 37% discount you're asking for. The best I can do is offer you a cheaper room—they're not bad, you know."
"Yes, but..." His eyes, which Blaze had just noticed were a disquieting yellow, flicked briefly to his brother.
Paranoia, Blaze guessed. She didn't like knowing people could hear her in the bathroom, especially not when she was signing in the shower. But whether or not he was the Full Metal Alchemist, his reasons would be rather more suspicious. Blaze stretched forward and lowered her voice conspiratorially, "Are you really Edward Elric, the State Alchemist?"
"Yes," the blond said firmly.
"The prodigy?"
He preened. "Yes."
She smiled wickedly. "Good. In that case, tell me everything you know about the Philosopher's Stone."
"Wha—!?" Ed's eyes widened momentarily and then narrowed suspiciously as he gained control of his surprise. He edged slowly back and tensed, ready for both fight and flight. "Why would you want to know about something like that?"
All traces of polite hostess disappeared from her smile. "Because prizes like the Philosopher's Stone are what everyone in my profession dreams of finding."
He raised a thick golden eyebrow. "Hotel management?"
"Treasure hunting," she corrected.
"You're a thief," he spat, looking disgusted. "A petty thief."
A flash of annoyance crossed her face. "I like to think of myself as a collector. Besides, I've never actually stolen from people."
"Like I'd believe that. C'mon, Al, let's move on."
"Wait!" Blaze dashed out from behind the desk and caught the edge of Ed's sleeve. Her practiced hand slipped in and out of his pocket, snakelike, without him noticing. "One alchemist to another: I give you a place to stay, and you tell me what I want to know. Equivalent Exchange."
"You're an alchemist?" He jerked his arm away, looking even more repulsed. "An alchemist thief. What happened to 'be thou for the people'?"
"Oh, good joke, Mr. State Alchemist," Blaze scoffed, crossing her arms. "At least I haven't sold my soul to the Devil."
He colored, turning as red as his mud-splattered jacket. "I wouldn't bet on it. You probably con your costumers out of their lifesavings."
Blaze sighed heavily. Some people didn't understand the delicate balance between treasure hunter and thief. "Fine," she said, and she held up her hands, palms out in a gesture of peace. "I'm sorry. Leave. Leave town if it suits you."
"I will," Ed said stiffly, picking up his battered leather suitcase from the floor. "Thanks for all your hospitality. You make a real practice of it."
She ignored this baited sarcasm. One of them had to be the bigger person, even if it was just an act. Blaze returned to her desk and righted the chair, which she'd knocked over in her haste to catch him.
"Goodbye," said Al morosely. He closed the door after his brother on his way out, very gentlemanly. He was probably good at damage control after Ed lost his temper. As far as Blaze could tell, the moody blond had never had a firm hold on it.
He'll throw a fit when he finds out, Blaze thought with relish as she shook a gleaming silver object—the Full Metal Alchemist's pocket watch—out of her sleeve. It'd been easy to slip the chain off the ring. One of the links had probably been broken, and he was lucky he hadn't lost it earlier. So was she.
Behind her triumph and elation, there was a small, yet persistent, niggle of doubt and guilt. People had been calling her a thief for years, and now she had finally proved them right. Finding some priceless treasure in a booby-trapped cave was one thing. Robbery left a sour taste in her mouth. Her parents would be rolling over in their graves.
Knowing she'd probably regret it morning, Blaze ran out the door and into a throng of people who were laughing and drinking and generally having a good time. She dodged a few of the more drunken ones and hurried down the street to where a horned helmet bobbed above the crowd.
Al's head hovered in place as Blaze wove her way between the festival-goers. On days when the streets were packed like this, it was more a matter of being able to navigate the sea of bodies than simply running fast, and Al was the right width for a roadblock.
"Elric," she bellowed when she drew within shouting range. "Hey, you lost something!"
Al turned quickly, knocking into several people, and his lamp-like eyes widened. He tapped Ed, who was trying to squeeze through a small gap in the crowd, on the shoulder, and they both watched her warily as she made her way up to them.
She ducked a swinging arm and straightened, smiling. Her shoulder-length hair was slightly wind-blown, but nothing other than that gave away the fact that she'd chased them down a long street. "This is yours," Blaze said, holding up the pocket watch.
Ed immediately shoved his hand deep into his pocket; groped around for a moment; and, having pulled up the short end of a chain, aimed a glare of mixed gratitude and mistrust her way. "You stole this," he accused, snatching it from her hand.
"Brother, don't just say that," Al reprimanded in a scandalized whisper-shout.
She considered being offended, but it was true. "Yeah," she admitted. "But I brought it back, didn't I?" she added defensively.
His lips twitched into a reluctant smile. "Yeah," he said slowly, "you did."
"So, in light of my misguided thievery, I think you can stay at my hotel for a reduced rate."
Ed pretended to consider this. He and Al exchanged a series of looks, displaying that uncanny telepathy most siblings possessed.
Blaze let them think, but she could tell he'd say yes. He really had no other choice. Not that he knew that.
"We could go look somewhere else."
"You could," Blaze agreed, "but you're broke."
Confusion spread across his young face, followed by realization and indignation. "You stole my money!"
Several people turned at this angry outburst. A few of the locals grinned at Blaze and winked; she had a reputation for being a trickster, and they were mostly responsible for spreading the stories. Nothing too sinister, of course. That would be bad for business.
Blaze shrugged, barely able to conceal a grin. "Like I said, come on back. At the very least, your money won't go to waste."
His expression turned pensive. "Not many people would steal from a State Alchemist."
"I prefer being unique. The name's Blaze, in case you were wondering." She stuck out her hand, and he shook it. He had nice gloves; they felt soft and durable.
"That's fitting," he said dryly.
"Thank you. Most people say so. Now, what do you say we move along before someone dumps beer on your golden head?"
ASDF
I had no idea how to end the chapter. Or what to say for the summary. So~ FMA. I love FMA. I haven't gotten far in Brotherhood, but... I blame that on my internet :D
The first chapter is over with! The main characters are introduced! The plot is cooking (in a slow cooker...)! Yay exclamation points!
I should stop making new series and get on with the ones I've started, but the lure towards all these fandom-writings is too great... D'=
Tell me what you thought, and you'll get... nothing... there's no real reward besides for making my writing improve~ But you'll get virtual cookies! -holds up virtual cookies-
