Culminations

Chapter Four – Clarifications and Shadows

Note: This story will contain spoilers for manga Ch. 72 and up. Links to scanlations can be found in my profile.

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist (Hagane no Renkinjutsushi) belongs to Arakawa Hiromu while Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.

"So that's just about it. I don't know why the responsibility has been given to me, or why they've decided to go back on their original plans for me, but I'm not complaining…too much."

Ed had just finished explaining to Winry about his new mission. She had taken it fairly calmly, refraining from commenting throughout the entire account. Now, she frowned up at Ed. They were conversing in the privacy of the room Winry had been given for the duration of her stay at Briggs. She was perched anxiously on the side of the bed while he lounged against the opposite wall, eyes downcast.

"It does seem a bit strange, doesn't it?" she said. "Do you suppose that it means that the Homunculi are willing to delay the completion of the transmutation circle?"

"That would seem to be the only explanation," Ed admitted. "I've been thinking about it, and come to the conclusion that they really could have assigned the foreigners to any one of us higher ranking officials, and I'm sure that not all of them are too busy to cope. Certainly at least one has less relevant tasks then I do. Come to think of it, why not Mustang?" He grimaced at the thought; he could only imagine how the arrogant man would take such an assignment.

"Well," Winry considered, "I know it's not much of a justification, but maybe it's because you're the closest in age to them. After all, you said that they looked about twenty, right? That would make you only four years younger, right? And Mr. Mustang is almost thirty, but he's one of the youngest of the higher ranked officials."

"You're right; it is a stupid idea," Ed scoffed, but his expression softened. "But other than something going wrong and them needing a delay, it's the only thing that seems remotely possible."

"But you're happy, right?" Winry asked. "No matter what the motivation is, this is still good for you?"

"Yeah," Ed confirmed with a scowl. "Scar and the rest I couldn't care less about, but it means that I'm going to miss out on a chance to get to that Rentanjutsu girl, and I don't know when I'll manage to get a second opportunity to look for her. I think that she's going to be really important to negating the Homunculi's alchemy, too. But if I ask to complete that mission before I leave, Kimblee might get suspicious. I don't think even revenge for Auntie and Uncle Rockbell would dissuade him."

"You're not leaving immediately?" Winry asked, sounding slightly surprised.

"No!" Ed exclaimed. "I have some things I need to get accomplished here at Briggs first. And," he added rather hesitantly, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks, "I thought that you'd appreciate it if I gave you some time to check how I'm adjusting to my new automail."

"Stupid," Winry teased playfully. "What will really matter is how it holds up in a fight. But—" she cut him off when he opened his mouth to apologize, "—the week will still be useful, and what I appreciate most is that you even thought to make the offer."

"Yeah, well, you know that I don't really want to leave you here alone," he replied gruffly, his cheeks still graced with a miniscule flush.

"Al will still be here," Winry reminded him almost admonishingly. "So I won't be completely alone."

"Yeah, but he can fend for himself," Ed pointed out. "And he can't really help you out when he's locked up and surrounded by armed guards. I'd also greatly prefer that he not attempt a prison break unless absolutely necessary."

"Yeah," Winry agreed, giggling a bit. "I can almost see Al transmuting the bars of his prison, leaping from the ruins proclaiming, 'Winry! I have come to save you!' and looking like a knight in shining armor (thanks to the polishing oil I brought him, of course!)."

Ed glanced at Winry, and, envisioning the absurd event, they couldn't contain themselves. The pair shared a brief laugh at his younger brother's expense, but before long, Winry broke off, her smiling face molding into an unhappy frown.

"I suppose that that truly is all I am for you two: a hindrance. You wouldn't have to worry about being held down like this if I wasn't here," she said sadly.

Uncertain if she was about to cry, Ed began to grow flustered. Why does she always have this effect on me? he wondered, carefully steering his mind away from certain comments made by certain Lieutenants.

"Don't think that you are a hindrance!" he berated the distraught girl, moving to sit next to her on the bed. "If it were not for you, I would not have two firm feet to stand on!"

"I suppose that's true," she said, smiling a bit. "But it still makes me sad to think that I am holding you back by my mere presence."

It was Ed's turn to frown. "Don't be. After all you've done for us, the least we—the least I can do in return is to ensure your safety."

"Eh?" She looked up at him. Wait—up? Ed paused, confused, before shaking his head passing it off as some sort of mystification of the moment.

"You've always been there, offering us a place—and people, too—to return to, no matter where we've been, or for how long," he proceeded to explain. "It may not seem like we appreciate it much, but, how do I put it? Even though Mom's gone, it's really nice to have people who are still willing to accept us as family."

Winry smiled up at him again. "Wait a minute…" she said, narrowing her eyes. Ed's own pupils widened. Had he said something wrong? "Stand up."

He obeyed, rising from his place on the bed, before standing with his arms crossed, looking questioningly down at her. In turn, she stood up as well. "Take your shoes off," Winry commanded, kicking off her own boots.

"What now?" Ed demanded, wondering what she was getting at.

"Stand up straight."

Winry shifted her position until they stood back to back. Raising a hand, she carefully drew an imaginary line from the top of her head to his.

"Huh?" Ed asked as he felt her fingertips brush his hair.

"Thought so!" Winry exclaimed triumphantly.

"What?"

"You're taller than me now!" was her rejoinder.

"I am…?" Ed realized slowly, measuring the distance to see for himself. It was easily equal to almost eight or nine centimeters. "Wait," he glared, "I was always taller than you!"

"Were not!" Winry retorted. "I've been taller than you for years, even if only by an inch or two!"

"Oh yeah?" he challenged. "I couldn't have grown that much in a couple of days."

"Well, maybe it the miracle of my wonderful, light, Northern-style automail!" Winry responded, grinning triumphantly.

"Yeah, right," Ed scoffed. "I've barely had that two days! Not long enough to make a difference."

'CLANG!'

"Are you insulting my automail, you jerk?!"

"Did I ever say that, automail freak?"

"You implied it, alchemy geek!"

"Hmph! At least you can't call me short anymore!" Ed smirked, massaging the point on his head that Winry's wrench had made contact with.

"Oh, yes I can!" she exclaimed haughtily. "Now at least you're average height—for a woman, that is!"

"WHO'RE YOU CALLING SO SHORT HE COULD BE MISTAKEN FOR A CUTE LITTLE GIRL?!"

"I'm glad things are back to normal in that respect, at least," Winry grinned happily, not realizing that her previous comment had, in a sense, been an insult to her height as well.

Ed was, too, though he would never admit it. "Oh…" He had just remembered something that he had forgotten to mention to Winry. And as much as he was loath to break the relaxed mood that had developed in the room, he had promised to tell her everything, and this was included.

"What is it?" Winry asked him worriedly, her happy expression falling a bit. "Is something the matter?"

"Not really," Ed admitted. "I just remembered something that I suppose I ought to tell you."

"You see, you aren't the only important person being held hostage by the shadowed upper ranks of the military."

He went on to explain Lieutenant Hawkeye's role as the Fuehrer President's assistant, and how that position was nothing more than an excuse to put her at the Homunculi's mercy.

"Ms. Riza…" Winry said sadly. "So she's being used as a means for them to keep a firm hold on Mr. Mustang…"

Ed nodded unhappily.

Winry sighed dejectedly. "I wonder how she's doing right now…"

Despite the fact that it was nearing midnight, all the lights in the apartment were on, causing the few windows facing the street to stand out in stark contrast from the rest of the building, even through the curtains.

Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, a normally down-to-earth woman who didn't let much bother her, was sitting at her table, drinking a cup of warm tea. Her dog, Hayate, had sensed his mistress' distress and had come over to give her a 'kiss'. He was currently perched in Riza's lap, softly nuzzling her face.

The call from the Colonel had helped to dispel her fears…some, at least. She couldn't help but snort. "I got drunk and bought a huge quantity of flowers." How like the man. And then to expect her to take some of them, as well! She had declined, telling him that she didn't have any vases.

That was a lie, of course. She knew that there was an old vase of her mother's tucked into the brown box labeled 'dishes' that was sitting on her counter by the stove. However, if Colonel Mustang had come over, she was sure that she would not be able to dissuade his (accurate) beliefs that something was bothering her. She would also be equally hard pressed to explain the slash on her right cheek (it had already stopped bleeding, so she hadn't seen the point in covering it with a bandage) that that child—that thing—had given her.

That's right—Selim, the Fuehrer President's 'son', the original homunculus…Pride. The 'boy', who at first glance seemed to be nothing more than an overly bright, precocious child, but at second emitted such a murderous aura, he would make even the fiercest killers shrink back and cower in fear.

For a second, Riza wondered whether she was like the young man and his lady bodyguard—the ones from Xing. Ling and Ran Fan, who claimed to be able to sense Homunculi's auras. After all, the boy's 'mother' had seemed not to notice anything, nor had she seemed to believe that her 'son' was anything other than a normal, if a rather sharp, child. And after all, 'Selim' must have had contact with plenty of other normal humans who never noticed anything.

But all the same, Riza could not see how anyone could hope to miss that evil, deadly aura. And she knew that it was imperative that this information reach the ears of Roy Mustang.

"I will always be watching you from the shadows."

But how do you secretly exchange information when your observers are the very shadows themselves?

Riza knew that if the Colonel came to drop of her share of the flowers, he would press her for an explanation that she could not give. But he would be persistent and would refuse to give up. And Riza knew that, because he was Roy Mustang, despite her steadfast determination, there was a chance—small, it was true, but not too small to be overlooked—that she would give in and tell him.

"You know what will happen if you let this out. Your companions and Colonel Mustang will not come out unscathed."

And that was a small chance that she could not allow.

Riza knew it was pointless to try and sleep after her encounter at the President's mansion. And that was why she was sitting here, drinking tea, in the middle of the night with all the lights on.

Riza prided herself on being able to face most situations with a level head, steady hand, and sharp aim. But 'most situations' did not cover fat men and shapely women who refused to be killed and terrifying children who manipulated killing shadows and were more than capable of carrying out their threats.

In other words, Riza Hawkeye did not hold with the supernatural. Alchemy, of course, was not included in this category. After all, her father had been an alchemist of some mild renown, and after his passing she went on to serve in the military as a subordinate of his apprentice, Roy Mustang. But when that same alchemy was used to create superhuman beings and small red stones out of human lives that granted unimaginable alchemic power, it became simply unnatural.

Understandably, Riza almost choked on her tea when a sudden rap at the door caused her to the jump in surprise just as she raised cup to her lips to take a fresh sip.

Carefully urging Hayate off her lap as she tightened her grip of her gun, Riza rose to unlatch the door, wondering who in their right mind would be calling on her at this time of night.

To her surprise, the one at her door was not some fearsome homunculus. Quite the opposite was Roy Mustang, who stood grinning sheepishly in the frame, and clutched in his grasp was a posy of flowers—in a delicately painted porcelain vase.

Seeing her shocked expression, he laughed uncomfortably. "They were too pretty for me to burn them all," he explained, gesturing at the flowers, "so I brought a vase."

"Briggs Fortress defends the border. The commanding officer here, Major General Armstrong, seeks for innovative ways to keep the military technology employed at the base at the peak of functionality," Ed recited, attempting to remember what he had been told when he had been shown around the fortress.

He was currently starting his daunting task of showing the foreigners around Briggs, having made his way to where they were staying through trial and error earlier. Peering interestedly over his shoulder as he set a fast-paced trot through the brightly lit corridors were the three adults and Winry.

There was actually a fairly plausible excuse for the girl's presence. As soon has he had made a motion to leave, she had latched on to his coat. When he had turned back around, she had stubbornly announced that she was going with him, before hastily correcting herself to specify that it would only be within the confines of Briggs. Ed had wisely decided that it would be better not to argue, for he knew that Winry could be just as pigheaded as he if she felt the need for it.

"I don't know the layout of Briggs any more than they do," she announced, "and since it seems like I'm going to be here a while, I ought to learn my way around. And, this'll probably be the most use you get out of your automail while you're here, so it only makes sense for me to come along to observe!"

Ed had utterly no idea what he was supposed to be doing. "Show the foreign ambassadors around Briggs," was clear enough, but… "How the hell am I supposed to show a bunch of people around a giant place when I need a tour guide myself?" he grumbled. "And I'm supposed to do this for a whole week? I know I promised Winry, but… I'm definitely gonna try roping Falman into helping me out."

So far, Ed had just wandered aimlessly around, pointing out various landmarks, as well as spouting off the little history he knew of Briggs, as well as a bit about Amestris, too. Through the aid of random soldiers and officers they happened to pass, Ed had managed to guide the foreigners to the mess hall, the dormitories, the practice ground, the lowest level, where they had spotted Second Lieutenant Falman still knocking down icicles, and now, as he pulled open a door, the medical room, where the automail mechanics also made their abode. He hadn't seen the use in revisiting the prisons.

There were only one or two people inside, since it was about lunch time and most of the mechanics and doctors were on break; Ed was hopping to bring them all by the cafeteria when this part of the tour was done. Feeling thankful that he would only have a fairly small additional audience this time (in some of the other locations, everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch the famous Fullmetal Alchemist make a fool of himself), Ed started in on his speech.

"The engineers here at Briggs are responsible for equipping soldiers here with the durable, cold resistant, and incrediblylight automail of the north," he began, smiling happily down at his incredibly light (and growth stimulating?) automail. "They—"

Winry cut him off. "Perhaps," she said grinning enthusiastically, "it would be best if I take over this part of the tour. After all, I am an automail mechanic."

Without even waiting for a response, she launched off into a rather undecipherable tangent about her beloved automail. The foreigners seemed to have varied amounts of comprehension. The woman, Granger, seemed to be listening intently, the leader, Potter, seemed to be attempting to make some sense of it, and Weasley, whose purpose Ed couldn't place, seemed to have given up completely.

"Automail is one of the most depended-on technologies in Amestris. Thanks to the hardworking, determined engineers, people who have been maimed in accidents or wars can get back on their feet with out the use of crutches or other supports! Military amputees can remain in active service! Automail can salvage the lives of those who have no other hope!

"Northern automail, of course, requires a special type of metal. The normal iron mix used in most southern automail would cause the user to get frostbite around their ports in record time. To make it, we combine duralumin, carbon fiber, nickel, and copper. Therefore, northern automail is light, durable, and incredibly cold-resilient."

The three foreigners stared at Winry, their jaws hanging slightly open—even Granger seemed to have gotten lost somewhere along the way, and Ed had gotten the impression that she was the brightest of the three. Ed couldn't blame them, though. Winry didn't look like the type of girl who could spout off such a speech until the words came pouring out from her mouth. (Not that that meant anything in particular, of course.)

"Ed, take your shirt off."

What?! He blushed. He could feel the questioning eyes of the foreigners on him as he stared at her. Although he got what she meant, she really didn't have to phrase it like that.

"I want to show them your automail. Hurry up!" She had her wrench in hand, and Ed, wanting to spare himself the further embarrassment of being hit in front of total strangers, complied.

'Why does it always come to this?' he wondered disparagingly. He was seated on a stool in only his pants and black undershirt while Winry waxed eloquently on about his arm, while the other mechanics occasionally stuck their noses in with a comment or two. The only relief he could see was that Winry hadn't decided to look at his leg (which would force him to strip down to his boxers)…yet.

He glanced discreetly at the three foreigners, looking to gauge their reactions. Automail was far from being an uncommon sight in Amestris, although he did get varied responses due to his possession of it at such a young age—and the fearsome scars that lined the skin around the ports. However, automail was a technology possessed only by Amestris, so it would be interesting to see how those unfamiliar with it took it.

True to his expectations, the three all looked relatively shocked—Weasley more so than the others. Ed assumed that their nation must have some sort of prosthetic, though not quite as advanced (after all, which ones were?), since they didn't seem too shocked.

"Thank you, Miss Rockbell. That was all very…interesting and…informative," Potter attempted when Winry finally stopped for breath. Weasley and Granger nodded in agreement, but Ed could tell that they all were itching to ask more—probably involving an inquiry into the loss of his limb. "But there has been one thing about Amestris that I have been wondering about, and I will even go so far as to ask for a demonstration. I believe that Mr. Elric here should be glad to oblige…"

"What?" Ed asked, narrowing his eyes. He didn't particularly like the way Potter had phrased his request…it was in that arrogant manner that, once again, reminded him far too much of the Colonel.

"Alchemy, Mr. Elric," Potter said, a reasonable smile spreading across his features.

A/N: Heh, I know I said this was gonna be EdWin, but did I mention Royai, too? Anyway…

Arakawa-sensei beat me to it! No, seriously! In my outline for this chapter, I had a scene freakishly similar to the recent one between Roy and Riza in the manga. Then…Chapter 72 came out and I decided, oh, what the heck; I'll just use that instead. :D

So…in regards to Chapter 72…I wanted to include more of it, but the only things I managed to worm in here were the height things (either Arakawa-sensei didn't get her morning cup of coffee when she drew this, or Ed got taller!) and the Roy/Riza exchange.

Also, due credit goes to Arakawa Hiromu-sensei and the wonderful scanlators over at ZOMGFTA (see my profile for a link) for the quotes up in the Riza section of the chapter.

Next Time:
Conceit and Fury Chapter Five
Roy pays a visit, Riza hides the truth, Pride has several choice words to say to Wrath, and some men's lives are saved by a series of lucky coincidences.