5/14/2016: Most of the edits in this chapter are to make characters blend better with their later characterizations, but Diana's thoughts re: Hohenheim are important plot wise, especially since up until this edit I don't think I'd revealed any of it.

The lyrics are by Nightwish.

~3~

Virgin snow beneath my feet

Painting the world in white

I tread the way

and lose myself into a tale.

-The Escapist

Alex adjusted, as he always did. He'd adjusted when Dad left, adapted to having a single parent who sometimes disappeared into her room for long stretches of time. He'd adjusted when Mom had died (although apparently not well enough) and being left under Will's not-so-gentle care. He cared about Alex, but he was hardly parent material, especially not at the tender age of five. He'd adjusted to Izumi's way of teaching.

So he would adapt to this new body, the same as usual.

It was troublesome, of course. Suddenly his weight was in completely different places, and his movement seemed to be ruled by imaginary ley-lines radiating from the seal in the center of his forehead instead of muscles and tendons. It was far harder to predict when he would fall, when he would balance.

There were benefits. He couldn't feel any pain – where in a flesh body, a misaimed kick or loss of balance could land him with a broken leg or a nasty gash, in this wooden mannequin, either of those didn't merit anything more than a quick circle and a flash of light. As long as both of his arms were intact, it was fine.

And there was one more thing Alex always did; he marvelled. He couldn't feel – no, stop thinking about that, because if he let himself think about it too much he began to crack again – but the world was so much bigger. The long grass which before had come to his waist – now it towered above him, each stalk the height of a young tree. Den was a monstrous figure, and every time she gambolled around it was like an earthquake.

He was walking slowly around the base of a tree, still in sight of the Bradley house and tracing the whorls in the bark, when he heard voices. He cocked his head (forgetting for a moment that it didn't make all that much difference) but he didn't recognize them.

Before he could do anything, however, or even trace where the voices were coming from, he was being hoisted into the air, the grass suddenly very, very far below him.

He looked up with trepidation – into a pair of black sunglasses, reflecting his own glass-eyed face back at him.


Jareth Valjean* hated trains. It wasn't the hard wooden seats he had a problem with, or the fact that he couldn't smoke (or drink, or indulge in any of his other pleasures), or even that they were far too noisy for him to sleep in.

It was the mind-numbing boredom.

Worse than that, the fact that his usual travelling companion was never even the slightest bit affected. He watched bitterly as she turned the page of her book with a white-gloved hand, calm and dignified and sitting just as straight as she had at the beginning of their journey.

Almost twenty-four hours ago.

As if she could read his thoughts, and Jareth rather suspected that she could, Diana looked up from the novel with a curious glance. "Lieutenant, while I'm almost certain there's no rules on the books about scowling at a superior officer, I'm inclined to call it insubordination anyway. Is something bothering you?" She smirked as she said it, and he wanted to slap it off her face. Brat.

"How can you be reading?"

"By opening my book and turning the page. If you need further instructions, I'm afraid you're beyond my help."

He rolled his eyes and sat up, wincing as he stretched his sore back. "What's the matter with you, Di? How are you not going nuts?"

Diana closed the book, marking her spot with a finger, and held it up. "By reading, Lieutenant, which is a wonderful pastime and really, something you should try."

"I can't sit still for any longer!" he whined. "And there's no food either, which should be a capital crime – hold on, what the hell?" He grabbed for the book, but Diana held it just out of his grip. "Is that – what the hell is that?"

"Romantic literature," she said as primly as she could, although she had the grace to fake at least a little bit of a blush.

He snorted. "Smut. You're reading smut."

"Romantic literature, Lieutenant," she insisted, sly smile still on her face.

He rolled his eyes, lying back down and flinging his arm over his eyes. "Stop calling me Lieutenant, Di, there's no-one else here."

"We're on official business." She opened her book again. "And it annoys you."

"Don't give me that official business bullshit. You're reading smut."

Finally, her smirk gave way to a full-out grin, which dissolved into laughter. "I'll let you borrow it when I'm done."

He flopped back on the hard train bench with a grumble. "Screw you."


He tipped down his dark glasses, eyebrow rising as he tried to make sense of what it was he had dangling from his fingers. "...Er. Colonel?"

Diana Solaris** lowered the document she'd been perusing with an increasingly-confused expression (the trouble with small towns was that the locals' directions only made sense if you lived there) and eyed him cautiously. "What is it?" She glanced down to the doll in his hands. "A child's toy. What's so special about that? There's plenty of families here."

"Didn't you -" Valjean looked back at the doll. "Oh, fuck. I'm not crazy, damn it!" He let loose a curse, eyeing the doll carefully -

-who proceeded to clap its hands to where its ears should be. "That was filthy!"

Solaris nearly dropped the map. "You're joking." She grabbed the doll from her lieutenant, staring closely. "What is this?"

"See its forehead?" Valjean pointed to the seal on the doll's forehead. "I'd wager that's blood."

"A blood-seal?" Solaris couldn't quite conceal the excitement in her voice. "That's just a theory, or it's supposed to be -"

"Well, either that's just decoration, or it's more than just a theory." Valjean grinned at her. "Think we found our alchemist?"

"You already have," came the same dry voice, and in unison, they both looked down at the wooden figure clasped in Solaris's hands, who had now crossed its arms in a decidedly irked position. "And I'm not an it. I'm a boy." He paused, then added, "In a temporary jam."

Valjean cocked his head, and blinked a few times. It somehow hadn't occurred to him yet that if the doll had spoken, and that was actually a blood-seal on his forehead -

"Who did this to you?" Solaris spoke first, the voice that had been so excited and elated suddenly cold.

"I – No one! Well, I mean -"

"Answer me!"

"It wasn't his fault, okay? And I'd really appreciate it if you put me down!"

Solaris didn't seem to hear that last bit, and in an attempt at compromise, Valjean teased the boy from her hands, loosening her iron grip. He didn't know what the boy could feel in this shape, but no matter what, it had to be somewhat intimidating. "My name's Valjean – Lieutenant Valjean. This is the Colonel."

"Oh, you're soldiers?" he mumbled. "So I have to tell you things?"

"Yes," Solaris snapped, but finally seemed to relax, even though Valjean could still see the tenseness in her shoulders and fingers. "But we'll help you -"

"He was trying to save my life!" the boy burst out. "Don't be mad at him!" It was already obvious he was young, but this solidified the perception in Valjean's mind – whoever had been sealed in this doll couldn't be more than ten, twelve at a stretch.

"Who is he?" Valjean asked. The same possibilities that had probably occurred to Solaris were now running through his head – experiments on children, children too scared or too young to understand, or fight back – It wouldn't be the first time they'd seen it. Thank god I'm not an alchemist. I'd probably want to put the sick bastards through the same thing.

"He's my brother," he whispered. "But he didn't mean to."

"You've already said that," Valjean responded distractedly. He hadn't expected that. From the look on her face, neither had Solaris. "What's your name?"

"Alex."

"I see." Solaris's voice was clipped, both short words bitten off before they'd been quite completed. "And your brother is…?"

"Will." Alex sounded rather defeated now.

"I'll need a family name, too."

Valjean watched Solaris carefully. He hated it when she got like this, cold and sharp and trying so, so hard to be a soldier like she was supposed to be. It was only a matter of time before she went reckless and did something incredibly, astoundingly stupid.

"E-Elric."

...Now that he really hadn't been expecting.

"Where is your brother now?" asked Solaris, voice still demanding and lofty. Valjean knew better than to take that at face value.

Alex pointed up the hill. "Up there. But I – I don't think he -"

"We'll see." She strode up the hill, and Valjean watched her uneasily, noting that her hand was already halfway out of her pocket.

She's probably not wrong. They'd come looking for an alchemist, or at least a lead on one, and stumbled into a mystery instead. He followed her up the hill, Alex resting in his grip, and his other hand reaching down to caress the grip of his gun.


The sun was so bright in his eyes, even reflected off the white of his newspaper, that it took King a while to notice the two figures coming up the path of the hill, the buttons and knobs of their blue uniforms catching the light.

He closed the newspaper with a frown. Ever since the war had ended, soldiers were a rare sight in Rizenbul – a few here and there had helped with rebuilding, and then disappeared. I don't get the feeling that they're here to drag an old man out of retirement – but this isn't a social visit either. They were walking too purposefully for that.

King gripped the porch banister, hauling himself to his feet and reaching for his cane. The gears in his knee groaned and clicked – he'd probably need another checkup soon. Still, it worked pretty well for a type of automail that wasn't even supposed to exist yet. That son of mine really is something – A bitter thought came to mind, and he rubbed his thumb over the head of his cane, the sword hiding inside ready to use if he needed to. If they're here for him -

The first of the two soldiers reached the top of the hill, and without even a moment to catch her breath, strode up the porch steps. There wasn't a hair out of place, the bun at the base of her neck tight and regulated, but her eyes were blazing. "I'm here to speak with William Elric."

He straightened up, feeling his knee click into place. "Stand down, girl. Has nobody taught you to respect your elders? I won't be ordered around in my own home. I retired for a reason."

Her fist tightened at her side, and he noticed the silver chain hanging from her belt. "Lieutenant-Colonel Diana Solaris. I'm here on military business."

"Major King Bradley. Retired." He saluted her. "Now, tell me what this is about."

She returned the salute, and he could see the barest hint of a flush on her cheeks. So she knew who he was. He could make that work for him. Most of the time, he didn't like thinking about the role he'd played in the war, especially with how it had all ended, but there were times when a good reputation with the military became very convenient. "Sir, I don't mean any offense. I'm investigating some curious events."

His eye flickered to her companion and the doll clutched in his hand. "You know, I'd be for more convinced that you were here in good faith if you were to release my son's friend. Alex is perfectly capable of getting around on his own."

"That's what I tried to tell them!" Alex burst out.

"Valjean, put it down," she ordered.

"Him."

"Pardon?" She blinked in surprise.

"I won't have you disrespecting Alex. Conduct your official business as you like – I assume Alex is why you're up here in the first place – but these boys have been through quite enough."

"I didn't want to tell them anything," Alex murmured. "I'm sorry I got caught."

King smiled at him. "It's quite alright. These things happen, and you didn't do anything wrong."

"But now they're mad at Will."

King drew his gaze back up to meet the Colonel's. "Are you, now?"

"All I want is to talk to him and figure this out." She crossed her arms. "I'm well within my rights. Blood-seals aren't supposed to be functional alchemy, let alone used on- on children."

King didn't have a good answer to that. She wasn't wrong. "Very well. Will's inside. He can give you the full story – which is all well and good, since I don't know it. But I won't have you harassing him. These boys are under my protection. Are we clear?"

There was the barest hint of a smile on Solaris's face, although it didn't reach her eyes. "Transparently."


Solaris wasn't sure what she was expecting. She'd received the scrawled epithet from William Elric several years ago now, and she hadn't thought much of it – he'd been seeking Hohenheim, and she'd only met the famous alchemist once, long before she'd graduated the academy. It had been a shock to find her old name scribbled in a child's hand, and she'd hidden it away, kept it to herself – but the man who'd known her by that name, who'd sat by her on a long, lonely, cold night almost ten years ago, had never resurfaced.

And then, all of a sudden, the military was looking for him again. She'd pulled out the letter, curling at the edges, and taken Valjean with her to Rizenbul -

- to find herself staring down at a small figure, curled up in a bed by the window, eyes closed but breathing still ragged.

"He's – he's a child -" she gasped out, and the image she'd constructed – of some man hunched over records of illegal experiments – fell apart. "This is William? Son of Hohenheim?"

"I was wondering what brought you out here in the first place," replied King coldly. "Hohenheim's long gone. These are his children."

"The records -" She swallowed. "The records say he's thirty-one." Thirty-one would make sense. I met his father a decade ago and he was in his forties. "

"Then the records are wrong. Will's eleven. Alex is ten." King pulled up Will's blanket. "And I won't have you hauling either of them away. The military has no business here."

"Harsh words from you, Major." Eleven. He's eleven years old.

King's brow furrowed. He tapped his cane against his knee with a metallic clang. "This was my reward for serving my country, Colonel. My wife was murdered by a State Alchemist. Forgive me for not accepting your investigation into two children with more grace."

She pursed her lips. "And Hohenheim?"

"Like I said, long gone."

While they were talked, Valjean had bent over the bed, looking Will up and down. "Major," he asked suddenly, voice low so he wouldn't wake the sleeping boy. "What happened?"

"What do you mean -?" And then she saw what he'd seen – the flatness of the blankets, the bandages looping up over the boy's shoulder. She reached forward, morbid curiosity taking over, and folded over the edge of the sheet.

His right arm was gone.

Valjean cursed quietly under his breath, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. Solaris's stomach turned. "What happened?" she asked, echoing Valjean's question.

"I don't see how it's any of your business," King snapped, his temper clearly fraying. "He's useless to you, and his father isn't here. So I suggest you move on -"

"No." The word came quietly but sharply, cutting through the conversation and silencing them all where they stood. Solaris looked down, meeting a pair of blazing gold eyes. Definitely his son, came the thought. "I'll tell you what happened."

Solaris backed off as Will struggled into an upright position, the pain only flickering briefly over his face. "Or, how about this?" There was a sourness to his voice. In a twist of irony, his voice certainly sounded as old as he was supposed to be. "Go down to the house at the base of the hill. What you're looking for- it's down there." He was breathing hard. Even sitting up had drained him.

"What is it?"

"I told you, go and look. And if you still want to know, come back." He looked away, and Solaris found herself breathing easier once that sharp gaze was off her. "Or you can leave. Forget you saw anything. Forget you heard anything." She could see the corners of his mouth turn at that. "Forget about me."

She could feel Valjean shifting uncomfortably at his side. She wasn't going to be cowed that easily. "I'll be back."

His fingers wrapped around the stump of his arm, and a wave of tension ran down his exposed back. "Yeah. Sure." Then, quietly enough that she wasn't sure she'd been supposed to hear, wryly but with no real humour, he added, "That's what they all say."

*Jareth Valjean is named after the Goblin King in Labyrinth, and his last name is from Les Miserables's Jean Valjean. His last name is pronounced 'Val-john'

**Diana Solaris's first name is taken from Wonder Woman, since physically there's a decent amount of resemblance between Lust and Wonder Woman. Her last name is taken from the manga/Brotherhood, from the alias she takes on when dating Havoc.