Author's Notes: Finally, I've got this whole thing plotted. I'm pleased. If you haven't already noticed, I am sticking with something of a dream theme for the fics. Dreams. Just thought I'd bring your attention to that. This is also something of an early birthday present to my friend Kara, whom I've mentioned several times before. Thanks for your support and nudging, XD Have a good 17th birthday!
An overall fic warning. This fic is based off of the paring Roy/Ed. If you do not like this pairing, or anything that might involve the two men, please do not continue with the fic. Therefore, we all will be happy. ;D
Well, enough with my rambling…onto the fic!
Disclaimer: I do not own Hagaren. I'm just evil in such ways that I torture the poor characters. I love them, really I do!
Title: Still Dreaming Of You
PrologueYeah, life was boring. He was forced to travel various parts of Amestris, in search of some terrorist group in which he cared not to locate. He had ventured into every land…seen every detail. It was nothing new, and he found he was restless. Every now and then, something worth his attention would happen, but it wasn't long until life settled back down.
The best moments by far were those when the post came through. Every now and then, he would have a letter to send. Other times, he received one. These letters kept him sane…they honestly did. Amidst the quiet life he led, there was someone he could still hold onto.
Roy Mustang. He sighed into a cup of orange juice. The inn he had stayed at luckily had a free breakfast included. He had just finished reading the most recent letter he received.
Pipsqueak,
I'm quite surprised to hear that things aren't moving in your area. One would think that the cities would be back to normal…or at least partially. Ha! You must be going crazy. It's not like to you to be away from danger for more than 12 hour max.
But I suppose it's not a time for jokes. Central is tense. There are rumors flying around about enemy threats. Though, so far, nothing out of the ordinary has happened. I wouldn't worry over it too much. King Bradley doesn't seem too concerned about it. But then again, what is he concerned about? He's been strange around me, lately, too.
Besides that, Havoc learned that hitting on Hawkeye was not smart-- The hard way. Dolefully, I have to say that there are several bullet holes in the office walls now…but perhaps it makes this group more…what's the word…persuading?
Ah, well…things aren't as lively around here anymore.
Come home soon,
Roy.
Edward sighed and ran his fleshed fingers over the messy handwriting. Roy had been writing this only days before it reached his hands. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he relaxed back into his chair.
He left Central three months ago. As much as he hated being under constant military watch, he hated that he was so far from it. One would think he would've learned to get over his problems quickly. But Roy and the ego that closely ensued such a package were quite hard to get over.
Folding the letter up, he began to write his own letter back.
Colonel ,
You will pay for your last letter. When I see you, you'll regret calling me…that. You're only pulling that now because I'm so far away. Just you wait.
I'm glad to hear there's finally some decoration to that boring office of yours. Is Havoc even still alive? If so, I'm shocked. Hawkeye will snap and shoot us all one day. I know it. There's no way someone that trigger-happy can be perfectly sane.
About the Fuhrer…I wouldn't worry over what he does. He didn't get hold of one of your letters, did he? Is he figuring us out? Then again, I suppose there's not enough information to decipher his motive.
I've been hearing strange rumors around here too. It's been a while since something interesting has popped up. I'm in Lior right now. There's word of a few other National Alchemists heading this way. Know anything about that? Will you be coming? Why are they coming? Unless they're planning to figure out the whole Cornello thing all over again, I really don't know why they're bothering. It's probably one of the Fuhrer's stupid decisions. I wish he would think over his actions thoroughly.
Oh, and the word you were looking for was intimidating.
Watch your back,
Edward.
Carefully, flesh and metal hand folded the paper so smoothly against the tabletop. Slipping it into an envelope included with Roy's letter, he sighed and stood from his spot. Scrawling the address quickly upon the plain surface, he dipped a hand into a trench coat pocket. Dropping a few coins upon the table as a tip for the staff at the Inn, he moved outside onto a sunny little wrap-around porch. Thudding down wooden steps with thick boots, he moved across the dusty streets and over to a large mail bin. Reaching up to the slot, he dropped the letter into it, knowing that within a few days, it would reach it's recipient.
"Stay safe, Roy…" He mumbled beneath his breath, and moved down the street, wandering aimlessly.
T.B.C.
Authors Notes: Ha ha! I have this entire sequel plotted out now, so expect it to be updated at a decent rate this time. Thanks for reading!