IMPORTANT NOTICE: I'm taking some liberty with the way the show ended. The Promise Day still occurred; however, Edward still has his automail arm and the ability to use alchemy. (Make up your own reason why: it doesn't matter for my story.) We're also going to assume that Amestris speaks basically German and Creta (the country to the southwest) speaks French. ED is SHORT! I'm cutting off his height at 5'3".
Four years after the Promise Day, the world had become surprisingly calm. Fuhrer Grumman was doing a fair job keeping Amestris both well protected and well governed, without resorting to overt military actions (though Amestris was still a military regime).
A treaty had been agreed upon with Drachma, especially after they'd had heavy crop failure in their lowlands and the Northern District had quickly offered assistance. In addition, as an act of good will, sending a few barrels of fine Eloxmir whiskey seemed to keep the current Drachma Council satiated.
As if overnight, the Xing Empire had become the country's new best friend. Emperor Ling, after his fabled search for immortality, had grown a soft spot for Amestris, which the general public couldn't quite explain. Though there were always odd rumors: something about once seeing the young Ling passed out in the streets of Central or running around with the Fullmetal Alchemist.
The Commonwealth of Aerugo just shrugged, having never really bothered with Amestris in the first place. They did agree to deal more swiftly with their unsanctioned guerilla troops operating near the borders. Indeed, Aerugo government had their hands so full controlling their own internal skirmishes that Amestris could probably have marched themselves right into the country if they wished.
The most pressing matter for the Fuhrer and the board of generals was Creta, the introverted but assertive country to the southwest. The last official meeting between the two powers had been over 40 years ago, back when the country of Amestris had begun to overstretch its boundaries in the Western District. And today, October 11, 1919, was a day for the history books, as the first Creta delegation sauntered into Central.
The whole thing was also a massive headache, between setting up security measures, hiring translators, and organizing a schedule of events (including a friendly formal ball, as was a Creta custom), along with a slew of other details that had to be tediously sorted out.
Brigadier General Mustang was about to rip his hair out with all the logistical paperwork it required. He let his glasses slip down his nose and planted his face into the hardwood of his desk and grunted. (Although Dr. Marcoh had been able to cure Mustang of his blindness, his eyesight was never quite the same again.)
"Only a few more, sir," said Major Hawkeye.
"You said that a few more ago," grumbled the General.
Sitting at the large sectioned table, Havoc and Fury chuckled; it was good to know some things never changed.
The office door flew open, and Edward Elric came marching in, looking quite handsome in the standard blue uniform, "Hey there General, working hard or hardly working?"
"Fullmetal…," Mustang just didn't feel in the mood to deal with any shenanigans the younger Alchemist may have instigated, "Just give me the report."
"What's got your panties in a bunch?" Edward said, throwing the folder down, "Damn boring assignment. Just some teenagers playing pranks on the village with alchemy."
"So nothing blew up this time right?" said Havoc.
Edward glared at him. He glared at all of them. Damn it, he'd turned 20 already, yet they still treated him like a child. He was even tall enough to wear the damn uniform now – well, tallish. It still irked Edward that Alphonse was now a sturdy 5' 7" and Edward was clearly stuck down at 5' 3".
Mustang scanned the file, scowling at Edward's terrible handwriting. "I guess you can finish some of your backlog then."
Edward sighed, staring at the six inch stack waiting at his alcove. Seriously, was this the military or a secretary sweatshop? He plopped himself down, wondering how he'd gotten stuck with such a tedious job. He was still a State Alchemist, and in fact, a Lt. Colonel now; occasionally, there were assignments that took him out of the office or the alchemic lab – a stupid person with alchemy here, a scam artist there, a couple stuffy VIPs to bodyguard – but 60% of the time, it was paperwork.
After the Promise Day, Edward had been a bit at a loss of what to do with himself. His mission had been accomplished, and in addition, the crazed homunculus Father had been vanquished. (Edward still had both automail limbs, but limbs were not pressing matters; besides, he'd grown quite accustomed to them.) When Alphonse had regained enough strength to travel, the two brothers had headed back to Resembol. Winry and Al soon became a couple, and poor Edward started to feel like a third wheel.
Besides the fact that the village of Resembol was uneventfully parochial, he felt he owed his loyalty to a certain asshole. If Roy Mustang was going to become Fuhrer and change the country for the better, Edward needed to give him all the support he could muster. He was determined the day would come when he'd have to pay back 520 cenz.
So, he'd returned to Central and found the position waiting for him. Mustang had written off Ed's time away as a sabbatical, so confident that the Fullmetal Alchemist would return. Four years later and here he was – still a dog of the military.
Edward sighed and signed another file to be placed into storage. Havoc leaned over chewing on a lollipop stick (his wife had insisted he give up smoking).
"So, Edward, there's this nice girl that works at the flower shop…."
"No," said Ed.
"You haven't even heard anything about her."
"I don't need to," said Ed, "the last three people you tried to set me up with were just, just terrible. I'll figure it out on my own. Thank you."
"Havoc, stop trying to get Fullmetal laid and get back to work," Mustang shouted. His fuse that day was growing shorter by the second. At the term laid, Edward turned five shades of red and buried his face in a manila folder. Havoc started laughing his butt off and crashed sideways out of his chair.
Edward glowered down at the lieutenant, clapped his hands together, and transmuted a large wooden paddle from the table. "Damn it! IT'S NOT THAT FUNNY!"
SNAP! Havoc looked down and found his lollipop stick quite singed. Edward smelled a bit of burning hair and stared at the end of his braid in dismay.
"Both of you, knock if the fuck off! Damn it, Fullmetal go to the library!" Mustang looked ready to burn down the office. Even Hawkeye was a little taken aback at the General's reaction. Evidently, if he couldn't have fun while the Cretan delegation was in town, then no one would have fun.
Edward made no complaint and scurried off to do his work in the blissful scent and silence of books.
XXXXXXX
At Central Library, there were many subjects that were little referenced and these isles were perfect places of respite. Edward set himself up on the carpeted floor in the agricultural section; it reminded him of all those days spent with his brother researching the philosopher's stone.
After a few hours, Ed actually finished all his paperwork. He had a cadet courier it over to General Mustang's office, leaving Ed free to wander the stacks in search of interesting, forgotten alchemic tomes, and with the budding political relationship with Xing, there were even detailed books on alkahestry.
Ed was in the corner of the upper floor when he heard soft footsteps coming towards him.
"Excuse me," said a firm, feminine voice, rolling her vowel sounds, "you help me?"
Edward turned around. A brilliant young lady smiled back at him; her emerald eyes glittered with a striking intensity, and the slants of light through the windows danced across the highlights of her short copper-red hair. Edward momentarily became speechless.
"I look for alchemy book," she said in broken Amestrian, "But book for new person."
Ed blinked forming a quick conclusion – the accent, the hair, the odd pattern of her dress – that she was Cretan. Alphonse and Edward had always anticipated that their search might take them outside of Amestris, so they'd often spent the long train rides practicing foreign languages, including Drachmanian and passable Xingese (though Edward still couldn't grasp their ideograms).
It took him a moment to revive the Cretan tongue from his memory, but he felt great pride at how prepared he was. "Oui, je peux vous aider." [Yes, I can help you.]
Her eyes, if possible, became even more glowing."Oooo vous pouvez parler Cretan. Je cherche un livre alchimique pour une debutante. Quelque chose tre simple." [You can speak Cretan. I am looking for a beginner alchemy book. Something very simple.]
"Oui, mais je ne pense pas tu puisses emprunter un liver a cette bibliotheque. Vous devez habiter dans Central." [Yes, but, I don't think you can take out books from this library. You have to live in Central.]
"Ah," the young lady shrugged, "C'est la vie. Peut-etre, mmmm…une libriaire dans les environs?" [Ah, that's life. Maybe…there is a bookstore nearby?]
"Peut-etre, mais…," he thought about his small apartment overflowing with books (not quite Sheska-level, but he certainly had a couples piles scattered about the living room floor); he definitely had a few decent introductory texts, "je peux vous donner une introduction à la alchemique, oui?" [Maybe, but…I can give you an introductory text about alchemy, yes?]
Edward knew why he was so quick to offer her a book – he enjoyed helping others learn the wonder of alchemy, the General bastard constantly chided him to be an exemplar of their country, but most importantly, the young Cretan lady was damn beautiful and exotic. His heart literally skipped a beat just listening to her voice.
[I can't keep up the French; it will simply be noted when they are speaking "Cretan."]
"You would do that for me? You are very kind," she bowed her head politely, "I'm Holly. There must be something I can do for you in return."
He smiled and said, "Just use your alchemy wisely. Alchemy has serious potential to be used for the greater good." Or the greater evil, Ed mused darkly.
A commotion could be heard downstairs; the librarian sounded irate. Holly passed her eyes down the aisles nearby and looked worriedly towards the staircase. "Um, I think I need to get going. But the book – "
"I can bring it for you tomorrow," Ed said.
"Tomorrow, here at the library. Four o'clock. Oui?"
"Oui," he said. Holly hurried off, leaving him to sigh at the space she had just occupied. Now that he wasn't a deer caught in shiny green headlights, Ed began to comb over their quick conversation, in the hopes that he hadn't made a fool of himself.
Edward smacked himself in the face. "Oh crap, I didn't tell her my name."
NOTES: It has been mentioned by others that red hair doesn't really show up in the FMA anime; hence, I've decided that red hair would seem exotic to Amestrians. Edward is wearing his uniform, so Holly would assume he is an Amestrian officer, of course.
