A/N: Got this idea randomly after reading a Roy/Ed comic.
Summary: AU; Roy Mustang, king of the eastern kingdom, apprehends a stray foreigner. Oddly enough, the person isn't fully human. Roy takes interest.
Pairings: Roy/Ed and some others might pop up
Warnings: Shounen-ai/yaoi, swearing (from Ed, of course), and a random guy running around in a miniskirt (hey, you never know...)
Key:
'Blah' – Thoughts
"Blah" – Talking
Recommended listening: Voices in the Dark by Enigma
Metal Heart
Chapter One
It was another day, just like before. The sun always glistened across the sea of the east, glittering white sparkles reflecting the one thing that gave the land warmth during the summer days. White clouds looking like goose-down pillows floated suspended in the bright blue sky. The grasslands fluttered their appreciation to the new day and trees swayed in the slight breeze that blew carelessly over the warm hills and down through the valleys. The hot sun beat down with golden rays. It was past dawn and into morning. Everything was lit and no shadows moved or showed themselves. Actually, there was one shadow.
It was moving slowly, steeping carefully across the plains, swiftly and quietly through the tall brush and wheat fields. He was trespassing, he knew. And he knew he would be caught. But that was of little concern. He had a mission, a mission that would end in his death or end with what he wanted, what he had hoped to gain. He had already lost it twice because he had been reckless and stupid.
He wasn't going to lose it again. He brought up his left hand, bringing his hood down more over his head, hiding his hair and shadowing his eyes. His hand then fingered the cloak clasp he had, a red pendant in the shape of a cross, encircled by a long wire that went to the cross's sides, changing into wings with pointed black tips.
Yes, he wasn't going to lose again. Never again.
"Sir!"
Onyx eyes lazily turned to rest on a figure to the right as long black bangs fell over the intense orbs. The figure was a woman, her long blonde hair tied back into a high bun with a spiky bang falling over her forehead. She wore something similar to a knight uniform, but instead of heavy armor, it was thick navy satin cloth over silver under armor, making it easier for her to move. Her quiver hung across her back, full of arrows and her bow was in her hand, resting at her side. She was a quick archer and she never missed.
"What is it, Hawkeye?"
She inclined her head forward once. "Lord Roy, we have discovered a trespasser in Tsuki-kage. He has no ID or any papers. We believe he could be a spy."
"Interesting," was the reply from the man sitting on the chair, cheek resting on his hand. He was adorned in a dark navy satin robe as well, but had flames stitched in along the bottom to make it look as if he walked through fire and he wore a ruby manacle around his waist. He wore two white gloves on his hands, both with the symbol of fire in the palm. The expression on the pale face seemed almost bored, but the coal eyes had lightened with this new prospect. "Bring him to me."
"Yes sire." Riza bowed once more before she turned to the five standing behind her. "Move out."
"Yes ma'am!" they replied in unison.
Riza glanced back at Roy, who had hardly moved. There was something about him today. He seemed off. It wasn't noticeable to the normal eyes, but Riza wasn't nicknamed "Hawkeye" for nothing. Roy seemed drained, tired, stressed and most of all, empty. At least this foreigner would liven a few things up, maybe even come in quietly and cooperate.
How wrong she was.
'Shit, that was fast...'
The shadow was running, running harder and faster than he ever had to dodge the rain of arrows that were coming from miles off and the guards far behind him that still insisted on running, despite their obvious sweat across their foreheads and the heavy armor that weighed them down.
'Suckers,' the cloaked figure thought as he went left and right into the forest. The trees were dense, so most of the arrows could hardly get in past the foliage, much less hit him. He burst out on the south side of the forest. His cloak hood fell off. A sharp arrow that he had barely seen in time to dodge skimmed passed his cheek. A moment later, he could feel a warm trickle. He brought his hand over his head to bring his hood back over his eyes. Ignoring the blood, he began running again, towards the west. The grass barely moved, as he seemed to fly across it, his feet hardly touching the ground. He was almost free. Just a little more...
It was then that another arrow came within centimeters of his face. He skidded to a stop, kicking up a small cloud of dirt. Three more arrows, obviously shot from the same archer, came whizzing down faster than he could blink. Cursing under his breath, he slapped his hands together, concentrating with his mind as he bent the air and felt the circling power flow through his veins. He then slammed his hands against the ground, pouring out his energy and the dirt came up again, more solid this time, forming a wall around him to protect him from the barrage of arrows.
The arrows paused for a moment and he knew they were probably shocked at this sudden display of what he knew was called "magic" and "witchcraft". How wrong they were. All he had done was condense the materials in the ground, form them together and bring them out with the force of reverse-gravity, creating the protective wall. It was simple.
He tensed when he suddenly felt a cold blade against his throat. He didn't turn his head. The blade was too close; it would cut him. He wasn't going to die here, especially not like this.
"On your feet," was the commanding voice. A woman's voice. Smirking despite himself, he complied with the order, standing up in a single, fluid motion.
"Walk."
"I can gather what you want me to do, thanks," he said, his smirk plastered on his face under his cloak hood. His smirk vanished when the blunt side of the blade pressed deeper against his trachea, threatening to cut at the slightest wrong move.
"You better have your tongue trained for the king," was another voice, sounding oddly pleased despite the tiredness reflecting behind it. "He's not as merciful as others."
"I'll keep that in mind," the cloaked man murmured, tilting his head away from the knife at his throat to look at the kingdom walls he had traveled too close to. It was at least a good ten stories high, made completely of hard limestone and marble.
'Probably with trace amounts of clay and iron,' he thought, musing over what he knew.
It was the outer wall of Tsuki-kage. The plains beyond it until the mountains were also part of the kingdom. Anyone traveling with an ID would be caught. The gates creaked open, the old wood doors rotting away already. 'Probably with the changing seasons, no doubt.'
It was extravagant beyond the gates. Houses with people upon people spread across for what could be said to be five miles. Houses were painted in various blues and reds, most of the red paint looking like fire. Odd how the kingdom was named Tsuki-kage and yet the symbol was fire.
'Moon shadow... shadows can be created by fire. The light from the fire spreads and anything solid in its path is burned. When it gets to something that can't be burned, like metal, it casts a shadow... Make sense.'
Oddly enough, the palace was before the actually city and the small houses in front were for the guards. He felt a sharp tug, leading him up the long flight of stairs that were also made of marble. He had a moment to pause to touch the actual stone before he realized that it just had a marble tint to it, painted on with a pearl white color. It was actually old limestone. 'No wonder... marble is expensive these days.'
Suddenly, a pressure placed itself in the back of his neck and shoulder and he would have cried out had his throat not closed. His lungs greedily took in what little air they were getting. His chest constricted and he brought his hand up to clutch it, fisting the front of his cloak. 'Dammit, not now!'
His senses dulled and he felt himself hit the cold stone underneath him.
Darkness.
The next time he awoke, his cloak still on his body, two people, obviously two guards, were suspending him by his arms. He was obviously not being given medical help, despite the fact that it wouldn't have helped anyway. He groaned and shook his head, making sure his hood didn't fall off in the process as he tried to mentally wish away the knot that had formed between his eyes. Not that it would have mattered. He opened his eyes and realized he was in the grand hall of the palace.
Brightly painted limestone glistened in the firelight from torches hung across the hallway. The floor was polished wood, covered by a single long rug made of satin, decorated in flames taking the shapes of horses as he galloped to the end of the hall. At said end, there sat a man, his features indefinable from where he was being held.
The guards realized he was awake and began walking, making sure to drag him as much as possible. He struggled against the hold, forgetting how he had been captured and that rewarded him with a kick in the back. He gritted his teeth so as to not shout out in pain as it raced up his spine. Instead, he shut his eyes, taking in a few calm breaths before he realized he was now standing at the foot of the three steps that led to the throne seat.
Under the hood, he glanced up to the man sitting on the throne. He was in his later twenties at the very least, had pale skin that made his deep coal eyes shoot out and capture attention. Short black hair fell over those eyes, making them give off a feel of alluringness.
"Remove his hood," the man commanded, nodding to the guards.
In a second, the hood came off and Roy was immediately transfixed by the site, so much so that he had to lean forward to get a better look. The tan face that was revealed shone in the torchlight. Two side-bangs painted gold fall right beside the pair of eyes, which were gold to match his hair, heart piercing and intense with anger. They were glaring at him in irritation, but what was so surprising was the fact that this was no man. It was a boy; a teenager. Roy noticed a faint glint of a ruby piercing on the teen's ear when he turned his head as he tried to pry himself out of the guards' grip.
"What is your name?" Roy asked, standing up.
The teenager shot him a hard look. "Give me yours and I'll give you mine." He was obviously hotheaded and didn't want to be there at the moment, but it was not as if he had a choice.
"How dare you speak to Lord Mustang that way!" shouted the guard to his right and went about to hit the teenager for his impudence, but it was dodged. The teen grabbed his arm and turned his feet expertly, flipping the man twice his size over his shoulder and against the hard stone. There was a pop as the guard's shoulder popped out of place.
There was a gasp from the guards, none of them believing that such a small teenager could flip over such a strong guard. One of the guards from earlier caught the teen by both hands, effectively stopping him, even as the boy kicked. Roy raised his eyebrows and descended the throne steps, walking up to the golden-haired teen. With a single gloved hand, he took the boy by the chin and titled his head to look him in the face. Piercing golden eyes, round like the sun, stared intensely into coal black that were narrowed like a river, looking somewhat empty.
"You know my name already. Tell me yours," he commanded.
"Who I am is none of your business!" the teen said, spitting in Roy's face. "And I'd go quietly if you'd let me, but nooooooo! You had to get your stupid guards to come get me when I have some place I need to be!"
"And where is that?" Roy asked as he wiped the spit from his face. He had never met someone this, someone who had dared go against him.
"It doesn't concern you," the teen muttered, turning his head away.
'Doesn't concern me, hmm?' Roy would laugh if the situation were not so serious. A few of the guards had fainted over just the teen spitting in his face. How had he ever gotten hold of such girly staff? No offense to Hawkeye of course. 'This is getting very interesting...'
"Look there!" One of the guards was pointing at the teen, or more specifically, something under the cloak. Roy tilted his head, trying to see what had captured his guard's attention and saw something gleam. Something metal.
"Remove your cloak," Roy ordered, putting his thumb and forefinger together.
"And if I refuse?" the teen asked, placing a hand on his hip. It was only now that Roy saw the braid behind the foreigner's head. It was long, just down to his middle back. Roy had never felt so amused.
"Then I guess I have no choice."
He snapped his fingers. Sparks shot out of his fingertips from nowhere and landed on the long brown cloak, traveling through the stitches, burning as it went. The teen growled and realizing that he would get severely burned, he unclasped the pendant from the middle of the cloak and shot out of it, holding onto the pendant like a lifeline before he stuck it into his pocket..
"You bastard," the teen growled as he stood staring at Roy from the man's left. It was then that the room fell silent. Not because of the teen's exclamation, but because of what was now revealed to their shocked eyes.
The teen was wearing black pants that had rips going down both pant legs, especially the left one. His top was a black leather tank top that had an imprint of white angel wings on the back. What was so shocking about his appearance were not his clothes, but his limbs. His left leg shone underneath the ripped pants, gleaming in the torchlight, showing off the fine metal plating. His right arm was completely metal from the end of his shoulder to his fingertips. There were scars showing underneath the tank top where the metal arm and his real shoulder connected. There was also a scar on his left arm from god only knows what, but that was minor compared to the metal plating that laughed happily in the torchlight.
"Are you happy now?" the teen asked, his hands, both real and metal, clenched into fists. His eyes seemed to have darkened and intensified so much that it made some of the guards shudder and begin to whisper in low tones.
"His arm... his leg, they're machines..."
"He's not human..."
"Aw, shut up, the lot of you," the teen growled. "I'm as human as any one of you." His metal arm cut through the air as he pointed at all the guards on the scene. "Are you so afraid of this?" He brought his metal arm up and fisted it. "Are you?!"
He was facing Roy now, eyes glaring, metal arm poised in front of him, showing it off to the king in front of him. "So are you afraid like the men you hide behind?"
The teenager was out of line and it was obvious, but no guard made a move to silence him. Roy blinked a moment between the metal limbs and the teenager's face. Judging by the scars, he hadn't lost his limbs through a defaulted birth. But were they scary? The strength of the metallic limbs was admirable, but did he fear them? Was he intimated by them?
"No."
Roy stared evenly with the teenager. The rich golden eyes didn't back down. They seemed to carry wisdom beyond their years, reflecting like a mirror of the knowledge he—Roy—already knew.
"However, I will apologize for earlier behavior," the king went on, tilting his head ever so slightly to look at the teen from another curving angle without being noticed. "I will ask you to stay here tonight to get refreshed before you continue on your journey tomorrow."
The teen suddenly blinked in surprise. He had definitely not expected that and Roy knew it. He gave the teenager a smile, which caused the boy to huff, cross his arms, metal over flesh, and look away. "I don't need your courtesy—"
"Then don't think of it like that," Roy said, diverting the conversation. "Hawkeye, see to it that this boy has suitable quarters on the fifth floor."
A woman dressed in light armory nodded and walked up to the braided teenager. She began to lead him away, down the hall. She noticed that the teenager looked away from each of the guard's gaping looks, as if trying to hide something private. Right when they were at the end of the hall, she noticed him stop, as if he had forgotten something. She looked back at him as he looked towards Roy, who had been watching them go.
Then...
"It's Ed."
Roy narrowed his eyes a little at the sudden revelation.
"My name is Ed."
A/N: First chapter done. I hope I didn't make people too OOC. Haven't watched Fullmetal Alchemist in a while. Anyway, feedback is appreciated. Arigatou and ja ne for now!
Saphira Nakare Ruakara
