For this, pretend that they accepted Hoenheim's offer on the Promised Day, OK?
Unsettling things to hear in the Fuhrer's mansion [originally the White House]:
It was safe to say that no-one had seen this coming. Admittedly, he had a good record in the military and was considered a prodigy, not to mention his actions on the Promised Day, but still – this was something nobody had expected. The alchemist had, at one point, been considered the last person who would be chosen as Fuhrer, but due to the overwhelming public support, he was now being instated into office.
The butler opened the door to the Fuhrer's mansion, bowing deeply.
"Welcome, Fuhrer President Elric."
Ed grinned. Yes! He had finally beaten old man Mustang at his own game and now he could forever take it easy in the Fuhrer's mansion.
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Okay, so perhaps this wasn't going to be as easy as he had expected. The paperwork was soul-destroying – until he learned of the beautiful concept of delegation – and too many people wanted his opinion on vital stuff.
Not to mention the pressures of maintaining a public-friendly image. Luckily, he still had his status as 'The People's Alchemist', but he couldn't ride on that reputation forever.
So, his Public Relations team thought up some new images for him to use.
The first attempt failed when Fuhrer Elric was being interviewed by a chain smoker. Half-way through the interview, the inevitable happened.
"Does your cigar taste a bit funny?"
His PR team, standing and eavesdropping on the other side of the door, facepalmed.
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Winry was visiting him, coming to see his new house – a building she had never thought she would step into. And now? Well, there she was, walking through the hallowed halls.
She was shown into the main office, where the alchemy freak was supposed to be.
"Ed?" The room was a mass graveyard of trees. Winry could almost swear that she heard the dying screams of ancient forests as she picked her way past the person-sized piles of paper. "Are you there? Are you alive?"
"Winry!" Ed shouted.
"Ed? Where are you?"
"Ah-hah! It's Fuhrer President Ed, to you!"
She could hear the grin on his face. "Don't make me get my wrench out, alchemy freak,"
Safely shielded by the mounds of paperwork, Ed felt fairly safe in replying "Automail freak!"
She had managed to pull him out from behind his desk and they were now walking around the mansion to his second study, the one where he did all of his interviews and meeting the public. The old childhood friends had been chatting in comfortable armchairs for about half an hour, when Winry noticed something on the wall.
"Ed… What's that?" she pointed to it.
"Oh, that? That's a map of Creta."
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Ed was visiting Al in Resembool, just taking it easy.
Or, at least as easily as he could with aides, bodyguards, PR people and all of the other various employees he couldn't seem to go anywhere without these days.
"So, brother," Al started, "Everyone here was so happy when you decided to make peace with Drachma!"
"Really, Al?"
"Yeah! They all think about you with pride; 'that Edward Elric's from our village', they say. They say that you're the best Fuhrer ever!"
Ed turned a violent shade of red. "Well, Al, I must tell you that deciding whether to go to war was one of the tensest games of eenie meenie mini mo I've ever played!"
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They were preparing for the delegation from Drachma to arrive and the presidential mansion was in uproar. Fuhrer President Edward Elric was tearing his hair out with stress.
The relations between the two countries had become more tense with the peace; now that they were no longer at war with each other, Amestris and Drachma were not entirely sure how to treat one another, hence the need for diplomatic delegations.
After yet another week of preparations, and then the delegates arrived. They were big, strong men, very physically imposing.
Ed chuckled inwardly as he saw them approaching him. 'Big, strong and stupid; just the way I like 'em'. Of course, none of these thoughts showed on his face; he knew better than to let on he was contemplating just how easy it would be to beat up diplomats, even if he was full of stress that would have been relieved oh-so-easily with just one tiny little fight.
The evening passed smoothly. The Fuhrer did not make any gaffes, and nobody used the 's' word in his hearing.
Of course, something had to happen. it was far too perfect. Of course an assassin would jump out, asking for the Fuhrer to be handed over in return for him not hurting a waiter who had been doing nothing but passing around drinks and minding his own business.
Surrounded by aides and advisors telling him what to do, Ed whirled around to face the head of them.
"Look, who's the Fuhrer here, me or you?"
Silence.
"It's me, shit." He took off at a run drawing the assassin away. The waiter was pushed to the floor, forgotten as the assassin fired a few shots at the fleeing figure.
He caught up with the Fuhrer President, slightly cautious due to the evil grin that stretched across Edward's face.
On the plus side, he heard the hospitals here in Amestris were really good
On the bad side… was that a poker he was holding?!
Ed as Fuhrer… something about that just gets me.
