Title: Night-Riders (Part II: Family Secrets)
Author: Jordanna Morgan
Archive Rights: Please request the author's consent.
Rating/Warnings: G.
Characters: Ed, Al, and assorted original townsfolk.
Setting: General.
Summary: Another October finds Edward depressed - until the brothers get caught up in a family's secret.
Disclaimer: They belong to Hiromu Arakawa. I'm just playing with them.


In spite of Ed's misgivings, the ride ahead of them was not unpleasant. The open wooden cart was low and broad and contained nothing but a few empty sacks, offering plenty of room both for Al's bulk and Ed's inclination to sprawl lazily. Jep himself took the driver's seat, handling the reins of the most enormous horse Al had ever seen. This huge brown beast named Tor was in fact a gentle giant, with a mellow pace that made for a smooth passage along the dirt road outside of town.

"The innkeeper said your name is Jep?" Al confirmed from his place in the front corner of the cart, opposite his brother.

Jep glanced over his shoulder with a nod. "Yeah..." He wrinkled his nose. "It's short for Jeptha, but I don't care for that so much."

"Pleased to meet you - as crazy as it was," Al said with a chuckle. "I'm Alphonse Elric, and this is my brother Edward."

The boy gave a start and turned sideways on his seat, all but dropping the reins - although this evidently made no difference to the horse. Tor seemed quite content to make his own way home even if he had no driver at all.

"Wait a sec... I've read that name in the paper." Jep stared at Ed. "You're the one they call the Fullmetal Alchemist, aren't you?"

Now that Ed was coming down from his earlier temper-fueled energy, it was clear to Al that the too-familiar scenery of hills and sheep pastures was luring him back into a funk. He sat rather listlessly, leaning back on his elbows and staring into the bottom of the cart. Ordinarily he would have lit up at such recognition, especially when Al was not mistaken to be the title's owner first; but at this time of the year, when his thoughts dwelled on his still-unachieved purpose for accepting it, the weight of his Fullmetal name was always heavier than usual.

He glanced up at Jep, and merely gave a slight shrug. "Yeah. That's me."

Jep's breath caught. "But this is awesome! I've heard a lot about you - how they call you the Hero of the People', because you help people like no other State Alchemist does." He lowered his eyes, his cheeks pinkening. "You're... kinda my hero, too. I want to learn alchemy one day, and get to travel all over the country doing great things, like you."

A mingled swell of pride and sadness blossomed within Al. No one was more proud than he of all the good his brother had done for ordinary people - but he knew how lightly Ed esteemed those achievements. He did many things just because they were right, but when it accomplished seemingly nothing to serve his own quest, the pleasure and satisfaction he felt was all too fleeting. As often as he brought happiness to others, his own happiness remained beyond his reach, and seeing that pained Al's soul just as much as the unfeeling emptiness of his armor.

Ed sighed, turning his eyes away from Jep. "It's just the job I do... and trust me, it's not what it's cracked up to be."

A frown of mystified dismay crossed Jep's face, and to divert him from any innocent but hurtful questions, Al quickly changed the subject. "So, Jep - won't you tell us about your Harvest Festival?"

This topic immediately turned the lad's expression into an eager smile. "It's our yearly celebration of bringing in our crops - or at least that's what it started out as. It's gotten kinda famous for some other traditions." His lips twitched impishly. "On the last day of the Festival, everyone wears costumes - and that night, we all wait for the Headless Horseman to ride through town before the Midnight Feast."

In spite of himself, Ed raised his head at that. "Headless Horseman?"

"Sure. He's a ghost who rises from his grave once a year - on the night he was hanged, they say. He rides a big demon-horse, and there's only a ball of green fire where his head should be." Jep's eyes glittered with delight at the gruesomeness of his tale, retold as if he had heard it all his life. "He comes with his cursed Night-Riders to steal the souls of children who get in his path. He tries to lure 'em with candy, but if you hold a candle to keep the darkness away, he can't touch you."

As Alphonse listened to this wild local legend, he felt a stirring of both fascination and vague unease.

He didn't really believe in ghosts... Of course not. After all, there was talk of ghosts in the Majihal affair a few years back, but Ed had proven it to be just another case of misguided alchemy. And if this Headless Horseman business was something a lot of people had actually seen... Well, naturally, it could only be some similar kind of ruse, alchemic or otherwise.

However, when one was merely a soul inhabiting a shell of steel, it tended to raise some uncomfortable questions about what was and wasn't possible - and about what exactly the definition of a ghost was in the first place. People who discovered his hollowness through some accident had more than once gone into hysterics about the "haunted" armor. He had even used that reaction of fear to his own advantage at times... and yet, in one way or another, maybe it wasn't so far from the truth.

It was ironic to Al that Edward, the very architect of his condition, never seemed to be troubled by those questions himself. Either he was really that sure of the alchemic processes involved in binding an intangible soul to steel... or he was just doing an excellent job of avoiding the issue completely.

Now, Ed's response to the story of the Headless Horseman was to smirk and roll his jaded eyes toward Al. "Well, I'll give this town credit for one thing: they've got a great gimmick for the tourists. It's no wonder the inn was booked solid."

"A gimmick, huh?" Jep looked back at Ed, with a trace of his earlier mischief in his smile. "Maybe you should stay and see him for yourself the day after tomorrow. Then even you might believe."

"There's no such thing as ghosts." Ed leaned his head back, looking up at the darkening sky, and his expression hardened as he repeated the truth the brothers had learned at so great a cost. "The dead can never come back."

Al dropped his gaze somberly, and decided to try not to think for a while.


It was nearly dark when Jep pointed out his home ahead of them, a large and rambling white farmhouse, set well back on what must have been a considerable acreage of property. Its cultivated fields began at the wooden fence near the road, and stretched away into the distance; some of them were already cleared of their crops, others still ripe with vegetables and grain waiting to be harvested. A large black scarecrow loomed up ominously from the cornfield that bordered the house's long driveway, and more of those curiously-carved pumpkins they had noticed in town were sitting on the porch steps.

"That's funny..." Jep murmured, peering through the dusk toward a field half-filled with golden sheaves. "My dad was going to bring all that wheat in today, but he hasn't finished, and the tractor's still sitting out there."

Jep halted the cart in front of the house, and guided the Elric brothers up the steps and through the screen door. The house they entered had a neatly lived-in coziness that reminded Al of the Rockbells' home, and he glanced at Ed, hoping it wouldn't be a further reminder of things lost and given up.

"Mom, Dad!" Jep called out, beckoning Ed and Al toward the kitchen, where they heard the sound of voices and clattering dishes. "I'm home, and I brought some guests Mrs. Waggetts didn't have room - "

He stopped in the kitchen doorway so suddenly that Al nearly bumped into him.

By the sink stood a woman, not quite forty, with an air of motherly kindness about her; she wore an apron over her housedress, and her tawny hair was pinned up at the nape of her neck. A girl of about twelve was sitting at the kitchen table peeling carrots, and family resemblance made it clear that she was both the woman's daughter and Jep's sister.

Next to the girl sat a very tall, broad-shouldered, powerful man, his hair and beard a light brown that was closer to Jep's coloring. His right leg was stretched out on the opposite chair in front of him - and it was encased in a cast from his knee to the sole of his foot.

"Dad!" Jep yelped, running to his father's side. "What happened?"

"It's alright, son," the man said quickly, placing his hand on Jep's shoulder. "Just a freak accident. I took a bad step off the tractor while you were gone. I got a break in my leg, alright, but it's not as bad as it could've been. Doc Hallam came over to fix it up."

The boy whimpered, wide-eyed. "But does that mean..." he blurted anxiously - only to glance at the Elrics and abruptly shut his mouth.

"We'll talk about that later. Looks like you brought us some company!" Jep's father leaned forward with a grimace, but the expression turned into a smile as he looked the brothers over. "Sorry you walked into a house that's a little upside-down right now. So you couldn't find a room in town, huh?"

Ed rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, yeah, but we don't want to be any trouble if..."

"Oh, no trouble. We were sort of expecting Jep would find somebody to bring home. We always like to get a little extra money keeping guests for the Festival - but if you don't mind doing some work for your room and board, that'd be an even bigger help after this." The man nodded awkwardly to his leg.

"Anyway, let's introduce ourselves proper. I'm Japheth Maddock." He waved a hand at the female members of his family. "This is my wife Fay, and our daughter Fawn."

"I'm Edward Elric," Ed answered, and tilted his head toward Al. "That's my little brother, Alphonse."

"They're alchemists," Jep added eagerly, before anyone could make one of the usual cracks about the little qualifier in Ed's statement. "And not just any alchemists - Edward is the Fullmetal Alchemist they write about in the paper!"

Fawn merely rolled her eyes. "Has Jep talked you to death about alchemy yet?"

"Yeah, you must've made his day," Japheth observed with a chuckle. "Our boy's champing at the bit to learn all that himself - but his mother and I want him to wait a few more years. Looks like tricky stuff."

"It is that," Ed agreed cryptically.

Fay Maddock spoke to her son. "Jep, go unhitch Tor and get him fed. Then wash up for supper." She turned to the Elrics. "If you boys want to freshen up too, Fawn will show you to the guest room. I hope you're hungry, because there's plenty of food!"

Accordingly, Jep went outside to attend to the horse, while his sister showed the Elrics to a small but comfortable guest room with an adjoining bath. After she left them, Al went through the simple motions of wiping the dust of travel from his armor, while Ed scrubbed his hands and face at the sink.

"Brother... are you okay with being here?" Al asked tentatively, after a short silence.

Ed's back was turned, but his shoulders stiffened slightly, just for a moment. Then he literally shrugged it off, reaching for the towel.

"Why shouldn't I be? It's just a place to stay. No big deal."

He wasn't fooling Al. The strong sense of home and family about the Maddock household was surely making him heartsick, maybe even a little bitter; but if he didn't want to talk about it, Al didn't want to press the issue while they were the guests of strangers.

When they returned to the kitchen, Japheth looked up at Al curiously. The question in his mind was both obvious and annoyingly familiar.

"Ah... please don't think I'm being rude," Al said hastily. "I, uh - I have to wear this armor. It's, um..."

"It's a punishment assignment from our alchemy teacher," Ed quipped, shooting Al a rather devious look. Al would have blushed as crimson as Ed's coat if he could have, but the lie was delivered so matter-of-factly that there was really nothing he could do to rebut it.

Japheth's eyebrows arched. "Sounds like all that alchemy business really is rough. Maybe Fay and I oughta be thinking twice about letting Jep get into it at all."

The younger Elric waved both hands in a negative gesture. "Oh, no, believe me - not all alchemy teachers are like ours!"

"Come and sit down, boys," Fay said kindly, turning from the stove. "Help yourselves to what's already on the table. I haven't done the half of my cooking for the Festival yet, so there's more to come!"

The brothers obeyed, and as they seated themselves, Al could at least see the reason why Ed had been appreciatively sniffing the air for the last few minutes. An enormous meal was laid out on the table: brightly-colored salad, whole ears of boiled corn, a potroast in a big iron kettle, a heap of oatmeal cookies, two different kinds of pie with pretty crimped crusts and large dollops of whipped cream.

Al regarded the spread with a wistfulness that was somewhat more vague than he liked it to be. It was hard to recall things like hunger and taste when he wasn't even physically equipped for those sensations; he had no stomach to growl or mouth to water in response to the sight of food. He had tried to hold an impression of favorite flavors and textures in his mind, but by this point, little remained except a detached remembrance that such food was good - in some intangible way that was like an increasingly distant dream.

It was frustrating, and a little frightening. He didn't want to become so used to his armor that he couldn't remember the feelings of flesh at all... And yet, sometimes he couldn't help wondering if forgetfulness would make it easier to bear, if he never did regain his body. Surely it would be harder to miss senses that had faded entirely from his memory.

But maybe then there wouldn't be anything human left to him at all.

With a will, Al pushed away those thoughts. It was bad enough that Brother was depressed. He didn't want to be unhappy as well, especially when they were in the company of such kind people.

Instead, he focused on their customary mealtime ritual of trying to make it look like he was eating. Over time, they had perfected their system of sneaking food from his plate to Ed's, and now they could manage it quite well even with Japheth and Fawn sitting at the table. It helped that Ed almost always ate enough for two people anyway - and although he hadn't been eating much in his recent mood, Fay Maddock's cooking was apparently enough to coax his appetite out of hiding.

Sometimes Al was a little envious when he watched his brother eat, but at other times it was an odd, vicarious comfort. Tonight it was the latter. After his worry that their surroundings would only enhance Ed's gloom, it was nice to see him actually enjoying something.

Fay joined them directly, adding a pot of mashed potatoes to the feast, and after a few minutes, Jep returned. His exuberance seemed to have faltered somewhat, and in fact, he looked a little anxious. The lad piled his plate with food, only to pick at it distractedly, frowning and fidgeting. Al considered asking if everything was alright, but he recalled Japheth's mention of something they would talk about later, and decided not to risk intruding on the family's private matters.

"So where did Jep find you boys? At the inn?" Japheth asked conversationally.

Before either of the Elrics could answer, Jep spoke up, in an abashed tone. "Uh, yeah. After I... kinda broke a window."

"Oh, Jeptha," Fay sighed, as a thunderstorm of a scowl erupted on Japheth's features.

"But it's alright!" Al offered quickly. "The innkeeper wasn't upset anymore after Ed fixed the glass. It's easy with alchemy."

Turning his reproachful eyes from his son, Japheth shrugged his big shoulders in apology. "Well, in that case, I'd say we're the ones in debt to you. I'm sorry you were put to the trouble. We do appreciate you stepping in on Jep's behalf."

"No problem," Ed answered, barely managing the good manners to swallow his food before he spoke. "This dinner is more than worth it!"

"And I'll be happy to help out here to pay for my stay," Al added.

"That's kind of you to offer, and I can't say I'm in any position to turn it down." Japheth glanced at his broken leg, and appeared to shake off a fleeting look of melancholy. "You boys plan to be here through the end of the Festival?"

Ed reached for the salad dressing. "Nah, we're just passing through. We plan to be on the first train tomorrow."

"Sorry to hear that. I don't guess State business leaves you much time for fun. And the Festival will be fun..." Japheth frowned reflectively. "Even if folks are in for a disappointment, come time for the Night-Riders."

At those words, Fay and the children glanced up sharply. Jep caught his breath, and Al almost thought he saw a sudden shine of tears in the boy's eyes.

"Disappointment? Why's that?" Ed asked in polite half-interest, too preoccupied with his food to notice the tension of the family's reaction.

Japheth hesitated, rubbed the back of his neck, and at last spread his hands with a rueful smile. "Well... Being as you're strangers around here, and having the kind of reputation you do... I don't guess there's much reason you shouldn't know. Especially since the secret's gonna be out in a couple of days anyway, when folks start adding things up." He ducked his head somewhat sheepishly. "You see, it looks like the Headless Horseman won't be riding this year - because the Headless Horseman is me."

Al gave a start, but Ed only stopped chewing and looked up with a crooked smile. "I knew it..." He glanced at Jep. "Ghosts, huh?"

Jep blushed furiously behind his freckles, not quite meeting Ed's eyes. "Hey, working up the tourists is our job."

"It's our family secret," Japheth elaborated. "Us Maddocks have been playing the part of the Headless Horseman and his Night-Riders for over two hundred years. In all that time, we've never missed a single year... until now." He glared at the cast on his leg with a faint bitterness.

"How did that start?" Al asked in wonderment.

Fay answered. "One of Japheth's ancestors was the first Headless Horseman - and it wasn't just for show then, either. It happened when the authorities in this part of the country tried to put a ban on liquor. People didn't appreciate that too much, so they started to smuggle beer and wine and whiskey from other regions nearby. Japheth's forefather was the leader, and to frighten the law away from the smuggling runs, he got the idea of dressing up like ghosts and demons. Of course people were more superstitious then, so I guess it must've worked; he came close a few times, but he managed to never get shot or captured."

"Lucky for me!" Japheth chuckled haplessly.

"After a few years, they got rid of the ban, since it cost the police lots of work and danger and didn't stop people from getting liquor anyway," Fawn added. "But by that time, the Headless Horseman had become a local legend - so our family decided to make the act into something nicer. Every year since then, we ride out on the last night of the Harvest Festival, giving people a good scare and throwing candy to the children."

To Al's surprise, Ed chuckled. "I knew it had to be a stunt, but I've gotta hand it to you and your ancestors - it's a great story."

"I'm afraid that story's seen its last chapter now," Japheth sighed regretfully. "I can't ride with this leg of mine. Fay and the kids could still go out as the Night-Riders, but when folks see the Headless Horseman ain't with 'em... Well, there's not really any other fella my size in town who just happens to be out of action. They'll figure it out, alright - and then all the fun of the mystery will be spoiled forever."

"But doesn't anybody else know the secret?" Al queried. "Somebody you could trust, who could take over the role of the Headless Horseman, just for this year?"

The big farmer frowned, scratching his chin. "Not around here. My brother did it sometimes when we were young, but he's moved down south, and he'd never get here in time. A few of our closest friends in town might suspect us, but nobody knows for sure - and nobody we'd think of telling could play the Horseman anyway. It's a hard ride, and the costume rig is a lot to handle. Not just anybody could do it."

There was a moment of thoughtful silence; and then, out of the blue, Ed answered with a single astounding sentence.

"I'll bet Al could do it."

"What?" Al turned a shocked stare upon his brother, his voice taking on the high pitch of panic usually reserved for threats to his blood seal or the fury of Izumi Curtis. "What do you mean, me?"

"Hey, why not?" Ed glanced back and forth between Al and Japheth. "Mr. Maddock is almost your size... well, sort of. Anyway, with alchemy, it oughta be easy to fix up the costume to go over your armor. And in the dark, who'd notice if the Headless Horseman is just a little bigger than usual?"

The Maddock patriarch chuckled. "Looks to me like more than a little. Still, though..." He eyed Alphonse calculatingly.

"But I don't know anything about riding horses!" Al protested shrilly. "And my armor is heavy! What if I break the horse's back?"

At that, Japheth laughed out loud. "Oh, don't worry about him! We use Tor to play the Headless Horseman's horse Hades, and he's the best-trained animal you'll ever see. He may not look it when he's hitched to a cart, but he has the act of a wild demon-horse downpat - and he'll do it without knocking a hair of your head out of place. He's easy to handle as a children's pony. And he's just as big as the warhorses they used to carry armored men into battle in olden times, so he's plenty strong enough."

"And besides," Ed remarked wryly, giving Al a sidelong glance. "You don't exactly have as much weight in there as people might think..." He gave Al's chestplate a gentle tap with two knuckles, and the younger Elric registered his point with a flicker of awkward self-consciousness. If Japheth believed a fully-armored man was not too heavy, a suit of armor that was empty would surely be even less so.

"You're actually serious about this, aren't you?" Al asked incredulously.

"Hey, you're the one who loves village fairs. This is your chance to be a part of the action." The elder brother grinned - and had Al breathed at all, the unexpected sparkle in Ed's eyes would have taken his breath away. "I've gotta admit... it does sound like fun."

From Al's other side, Jep leaned over, clamping eager fingers onto his vambrace. "It is fun, and I know you could do a great job! It's really not so hard. We'll show you everything, and during the ride, Mom and Fawn and I would be right there to help - "

"Now, Jep." Japheth leaned forward gravely. "We've got no place asking Alphonse to take on such a big job if he doesn't care to. He and his brother are our guests here. I'm sure they've got their own important work to do, and this problem is no business of theirs."

The boy's shoulders slumped, but the gaze he shifted back to Al was still shamelessly beseeching.

Al turned from Jep to Ed. His brother smiled crookedly, almost expectantly, and still there was that look in his eyes: a mischievous eagerness, like his childhood delight in figuring out new transmutations or concocting epic pranks to play on Winry. After days of depression, seeing that glow of enthusiasm made Al's soul ache with a dark, reckless joy that was all too familiar.

The plan was crazy and complicated and guaranteed to be trouble - just like Ed himself. And Ed wanted to do it.

And for all it may have cost him, when had Al ever been able to say no to that?

He turned to Japheth, his armor plates scraping in a small, awkward shrug. "Well, I... I guess it couldn't hurt to see if it would work..."

Jep squeaked in delight and pumped his fist. Japheth raised his eyebrows, and Fay and Fawn smiled; and Ed merely folded his arms with a smirk of satisfaction.


2010 Jordanna Morgan