Disclaimer: FMA isn't mine...and never will be. :( Though I sure could use the money if it was...

Author's Note:

...I can't believe it.

IT IS FINALLY HERE.

There are many, many things I want to say to my readers. First of all is the classic, usual, and somewhat cliched "Sorry"- with a capital S. Sorry for not updating this short, SHORT thing for almost a year. :( If you care to know my reasons for not doing so, here they are: (a) Paranoia about how crazy this will be, (b) Too many plot ideas running through my head, (c) School, and (d) My other stories.

Also, this should have been updated on the weekend of July 4th, but...I went to my first ever anime convention that day- the Anime Expo 2008. XP That day, I got the autographs of so many FMA voice actors (except for Vic because he had to leave early :( ), but they weren't really there for FMA...they were there for Ouran High School Host Club. o.0 I won't say much here, except for this: Vic as Tamaki, Caitlin as Haruhi, and Travis as Mori is gonna crack me UP. XD

For my reviewers: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!! You have no idea how impacted I was by all your reviews! The latest reviewers thoroughly enjoyed Cerulean San's piccy, yes? XP If you haven't seen it yet, you SHOULD. It contains a fabulous future scene for this story, and is very well-drawn. Link is on my profile. ;)

I also want to include a special apology to werxa. This reviewer had practically begged me for a next chapter, I promised her one, and then guess what...it came out REAL LATE. :( I am deeply sorry about this, from the bottom of my heart. I hate it when I go back on my word. :(

On one last note, say hello to my lovely new beta, Stripe! XD She didn't beta this chapter though, so if there are any mistakes it isn't her fault. :D However, her betaing on my second chapter (that's right folks! It is already made and is in the process of POLISHING! Wh00t!) was adequate, helpful, and greatly appreciated.

Now, on to this chapter. I hope it doesn't disappoint anyone, and don't despair about when the second chapter will come out- it will be anytime from now and the next two weeks.

Hope you enjoy! (And don't forget to review, please!)


Chapter 1: Thief

The man looked very wealthy.

His overcoat, white and bedecked with rills at the collar and cuffs, was trimmed and threaded in what looked like an awful lot of gold thread. His shoes were inscribed in gold too, with fancy designs that could only appear on the seal of a noble home.

And he was chubby- very chubby. Everywhere he walked his joyful belly would take an extra jig or two ahead of him. His face was dazed, his pockets jingled, and his massive wig swung to and fro as he went on his way.

He would be an easy target.

The boy slipped out from his corner and quickly walked toward the man with his head bent and his shoulders hunched. His breath exhaled softly as he wordlessly counted to himself.

One...

Two...

At three, he rammed into the man with an abrupt force- one that seemed near impossible for someone so skinny. A thrust of the hand as the man violently wobbled, a clenching of fingers, and then the boy hurried away as though nothing had happened. His thin form was lost in the ever-flowing crowd along the port.

The man picked himself up, patted his bulky sides, and went on his way.

It wasn't until he arrived at the bank that he was aware of anything missing.


"Rose?"

At the sound of her name, she turned and curtsied in greeting. "Yes, Father Cornello?"

"Would you please be so kind as to gather the holy water for this afternoon's mass?" The priest smiled at her with a kind twinkle in his eyes, and she found herself blushing with happiness as she gave an eager nod.

"Of course, Father!" she replied, and the man chuckled as he handed her a bucket and sent her to the churchyard.

Rose couldn't help but hum a little hymn to herself once she stepped outside. It was a beautiful day today- the skies were clear, the sun was warm, and the wind carried a fresh smell of the sea on its back. The sunlight glinted off her amethyst necklace as she strolled to the fountain in the center of the yard.

"Hey Rose."

"Eep!" The pail sailed out of her hands as she tripped and fell to the ground. "Who's there?!"

"Ha, Rose! You are always so easy to sneak up on!"

Her purple eyes narrowed, and she looked up. Sure enough, there was a familiar figure watching her from one of the branches. The person grinned, then leaped off the branch and onto the ground before her.

Rose crossed her arms, a little miffed. "That wasn't funny," she tried to say, but her words were lost among the giggles coming from her troublesome friend.

"You're kidding me, right? You should have seen how far that bucket flew!"

She gasped. "That's right, the bucket! I'm supposed to get the holy water for Father Cornello!" She looked around, then found with a sense of irony that it had landed right where it was supposed to be- in the fountain. Reaching out with both hands, she made sure the bucket was filled to the brim.

The one behind her was quiet for a moment, then sighed. "Rose, you're so lucky to be the altar girl. You get to have nice clean meals, good clothes…while me and the other orphans are stuck in that crappy orphanage."

She sucked in her breath and faced her friend. "Wi- Fred, you aren't supposed to say those kinds of things. You are supposed to be grateful for all that Leto has given you!"

The blonde boy before her frowned before rolling his blue orbs and patting a pocket of his trousers. "Oh don't worry, I'm grateful alright…"

That one move confirmed Rose's suspicions.

"Don't tell me you've- Fred, have you been-"

Fred waved his hands frantically to shush her. She complied, but her whisper was no less fierce. "Have you been out picking pockets again? You know what Father Cornello would say about this-"

"What the dear Father doesn't know won't hurt him," the boy stated with complete confidence. This statement did nothing to abate Rose's indignation, and she opened her mouth to let her friend know just that.

"My my, Rose Thomas, you seem quite busy."

Both of them turned at the sound of the catty voice behind them. To their utter surprise, the newcomer before them was a young lady with a sharp chin and haughty eyes.

Lady Lyra Dante.

"L-lady Dante! How are you feeling today?" Rose stammered as she curtsied and bent her head. The viceroy's daughter, here? And did she…oh no…

'Leto, please let it be that she didn't hear anything!'

"I feel quite pleasant today, Rose Thomas. Thank you for your concern. And who is this?" Lyra inquired, her head turning to the boy beside her. He jerked upon being noticed and, as though he had just remembered it, made a clumsy attempt at a bow.

Rose's heart tumbled and ran in circles.

"This is my friend, Fred. He sometimes does menial chores for the church," she answered. It wasn't too much of a lie, because every week the orphans were supposed to donate some time here. Leto himself knows that she could never bring herself to completely lie to anyone.

"Is that so? Well, I'm sure the priest enjoys having such…helping hands around the church." There was a condescending look on Lyra's face as she said this, and the boy frowned. "In fact, Fred, you remind me of someone."

"R-remind you of someone?" he asked. The frown on his face stepped aside to make room for a look of bewilderment, and Lyra smiled.

"Why yes, you seem quite similar to a young girl I often see whenever I pass by that horrid boy orphanage. She looks around your age, as a matter of fact…are you two related?"

"I'm afraid I don't exactly know who…who you are talking about…"

"Now what was her name again? Oh, that's right…"

This time, when Lyra looked at Fred, a small trickle of sweat broke on his brow. "…Her name was Winry, I believe."

In her head, Rose was silently praying to Leto for mercy, forgiveness, and above all, a way out of this.

'She can't find out! If she does-'

"Oh, I know that girl."

Rose fought every inch of her intention to shoot a panicked look at Fred. 'Fred,' she thought as her hands clenched on the folds of her dress. 'What are you doing?'

"She's my sister. My twin sister." Fred reached up a hand to scratch behind his head, his face sheepish. "Yeah…"

"…I see. Well, I was merely wondering on a whim." Lyra sharply turned on her heel, her glance lingering for a moment on Rose before she twirled her parasol and strolled off. "I have a meeting with the priest, so good day to you two."

"U-um, good day, Lady Dante!" Rose called as she curtsied once more. Her heart gradually returned to normal with each step that took the viceroy's daughter further away. Their little encounter was over, there was no harm done, and Lady Dante was thankfully still unaware of-

"She knows."

Those two words were enough to make her heart grab a shovel and start to dig its own grave to sink in. "What? You don't know that."

Fred snorted beside her. "Didn't you see the look she gave me? Y'know, the one that's so terribly amused?" Her friend's lofty tone was an obvious imitation of Lyra's. "If she didn't know before, she definitely knows now."

Rose kept silent. Yes, she had noticed, but hopefully Lady Dante would be too…amused to tell anyone else.

"You should go back to the orphanage, Fred. You're bound to get whipped if that headmistress finds that you sneaked out again."

"I know," Fred sighed. He waved, then ran off. "See you later, Rose."

She heard the jingling in his pockets as he climbed over a wall, and then he was gone.


"Dung Beetle! Where are you!"

'Uh-oh,' she gulped as she climbed into her room. In the blink of an eye she tore off her cap, trousers, and shirt and reached under her bed for the frayed brown petticoat she owned. A throw here, a tying of strings at the bodice, a tucking of her rolled-up trousers inside her pillowcase, and she was good to go.

"DUNG BEETLE!"

"I'm coming!" she called out as she stomped through the door. She hurried down the creaky wooden staircase and came face to face with the most dreadful person she ever knew.

Headmistress, the so-called proud owner of Jeanne's Orphanage for Boys.

"You little dung beetle, I demand to know why you are not present for today's roll call."

"My name isn't Dung Beetle. It's Winry!"

"Your name isn't the only thing questionable around here, scum!" Headmistress snapped. "You snuck out again, didn't you!"

Winry winced when she some spittle landed on her face, but didn't answer.

"Ah-ha! The proof is in the guilt hiding behind those horrible little eyes of yours. Now give me your hand!"

She glared, but held open her hand and immediately received six lashes from Headmistress's new whipping stick. She didn't flinch one bit, not even when Headmistress used a sharp fingernail to shove her in the direction of the dining room.

"Now go get that toothbrush from the pantry- you know the one. I want every inch of dust and every single crumb cleaned from that floor by evening's mass! If not, you get no dinner tonight!"

"Yes, ma'am," Winry muttered as she walked off. She knew the job was impossible to finish by then- the dining room was the largest room in the bloody place. But everything here tasted like mush anyways, so she didn't care about the prospect of no dinner.

With a sigh she grabbed a pitiful, frayed toothbrush from the pantry. 'Never fear,' she assured herself as she got down on her knees. 'Tonight is a new adventure. Just gotta make sure that I keep up the ol' tricks…' The toothbrush made feeble swipes at the crumbs and spills on the floor as her thoughts blurred and concentrated.

Ever since she first came here as a little girl, Headmistress had hated her. If anyone cared enough to ask why, Winry wouldn't know- though she would bet anything she owned that it was because Headmistress obviously preferred boys over girls. That and the fact that in a sense, Headmistress was forced to take Winry in; for some stupid reason there were no orphanages for girls in this town, and even Headmistress wasn't loathe to face the humiliation of disappointing the priest by not giving the poor little girl on her doorstep a home.

And what a shabby, unloving home it was. "My healthy, chubby boys" Headmistress would lovingly call her little brats; "you dung beetle" was the official nickname for Winry. Whenever Winry got into any fights, it was always the boys who Headmistress considered the victims, even if Winry wasn't always the one who started them. She always got the least food, the worst clothes, and she remembered some days when constant hunger made it hard for her to even move. The creepiest part was that sometimes Headmistress would suddenly give her a doleful glare, as though she were wishing that it was another boy on her hands and not a 'horrid' little girl.

Then, three years ago, a brilliant idea came to Winry- why not dress as a boy, if Headmistress wanted another one so much? Better yet, why not use it as a disguise for going around town? Then she could get some decent meals, maybe even nab some coins…and no one would be any wiser.

Yes, she stole; she was a thief. But what else was she supposed to do? Her "home" was obviously not providing enough for her, and town laws dictated that she was not allowed to leave this place until she was eighteen and married due to her being a girl; this was a law implemented by the priest himself, and no one here dared to disobey the priest.

Well, she wasn't going to let others decide her life for her. For Winry, the only option was running away, she would have to amass a good amount of money for her to settle down with when she did. There were still times when she felt guilty about whatever she stole, but…

She shook her head and scrubbed even harder at the wooden floor.


Two hours before sunset found Winry sighing with boredom in the pews.

Afternoon mass was always like this- boring, dull, and a complete waste of her time. Of course, if Rose ever heard her saying that she might have a fit.

At the thought of Rose, she lifted her head a little and took a look around. Sure enough, there was Rose kneeling near the altar, her hands clasped to her chest and that large necklace of hers dragging her neck down as usual. She was obviously drinking in everything that priest was saying.

Speaking of that priest…

"It is Leto's will that everyone here, whether man, woman, boy, or girl, contribute whatever they can to those who don't have what you have. Give to those who have nothing to give, and ensure yourself a special place in Leto's never-ending heart. Those who do are never failing in their blessings, for-"

She yawned again. Father Cornello was the most boring part of the whole mass.

It wasn't that she had a problem with what he was saying- being a bit needy herself, she was perfectly fine with giving to whoever needed it. But he always said the same thing: give, give, give. Didn't Leto have anything else he wanted his followers to do?

Besides, it wasn't like his message was making any difference. Father Cornello had been preaching the same thing for years, and the orphanage was still small, leaky, and crowded- even though each year the priest amassed more gold and jewels for himself and his holy work. If Leto cared so much about giving, why didn't he give more to those who actually needed it?

"Now, good people of Port Reole, I implore you to give to those little ones who have nothing to give," the priest ended. His large, bejeweled hand gestured toward the large golden bowl on top of the altar, and the whole church stood and gathered to form a single line before it. Winry and the other orphans remained seated since they were obviously among those "who had nothing give".

"Father, I give ten shillings for Leto's will," the first contributor cried as he dropped a bag of coins into the bowl. The next person dropped in two shillings, while the one after that put in twenty. And so it went, on and on, while Rose and the rest of the choir sang in low, pretty tones.

Let those who hear our voices

Be touched by their message

For it is Leto who gives

And wants us to give

Leto, Leto, Leto

Leto of the Sun

Winry didn't really mind this part of mass. While the other members of the choir sang prettily enough, Rose's voice alone was enough to serenade angels. It was always a pleasure to hear her sing, and Winry enjoyed every opportunity to do so.

She looked around and was surprised to see Lyra watching the choir with a strange, intent look on her face. No, it wasn't the choir she was looking at…

It was Rose.

She frowned, and at that moment Lyra chose to glance her way. For one brief second their eyes remained locked, her own confused and Lyra's haughty, and then Winry turned away and tried her best to mind her own business for the rest of the mass.


When nighttime came around, she was already out in the streets in her usual cap and trousers.

Her journey around the port tonight was the usual. A bite to eat at one of the taverns- a boy of sixteen had nothing to fear there at nighttime except for the prospect of getting laid- and then a seat in front of her favorite place: Henry's Automail.

To Winry, automail was the greatest treasure in the world. To be able to turn a hunk of metal into something as vital and useful as an arm or a leg- it was not only amazing, but a true work of art. Oh, if only she knew how to make it! She thought that automail did more miracles than Leto's cold, staring statue ever could.

"Not there, you oaf!" came the bellowing shout from behind the glowing window. "Now you mixed up the joints!"

"I-I'm sorry, sir…"

"Say that to who gets it!" A rough thud told Winry that Henry's apprentice wasn't being let off the hook today. "Now I want you to re-cast all the fundamentals you did tonight!"

"B-but sir, only one of them is-"

"Now, dimwit!" Henry yelled, and there was no more protest. Winry sighed, feeling sorry for the poor guy for a moment, then reached in her pocket and pulled out her own piece of work.

It certainly wasn't automail, that's for sure; any person who tried using this as an arm or leg would have to be crazy. It was a round, circular object made of rusty screws, gears, and anything else Winry could find in the dumps behind this shop. She was extremely lucky that day when Henry had decided to get a new tool set- even though she wasn't able to take too much for fear of Headmistress noticing something unwanted around the orphanage, the screwdriver and wrench that she had salvaged then still did a lot for her.

Now she turned her creation around in her hands, checking to see that each gear was in the place she had put it in. When she noticed a screw falling out, she frowned and took out her screwdriver to put it back into place.

"Wha' you doin' out 'ere, lil' boy?" a voice slurred near her ear. She jumped and saw a drunk man grinning at her with foul, rotten teeth. Instead of answering him, she simply stood and walked off.

Maybe she could go to the church and check on Rose. She had never visited her in the nighttime before…

Just then fireworks exploded in the sky over her, and she looked up. 'What? Who would be shooting off fireworks?'

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

She sucked in her breath. That sounded like it came from the harbor. Were those the bells that stood there? The bells that were never rung for weddings or any other special occasions? Why were they ringing right n…oh, no.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

All her life here, she was taught that if those bells ever sounded, they would only signal one thing.

"Pirates!"