Edward had called Winry with Alphonse by his side to inform her of their late arrival. There was a pause on the phone after the news, and Winry suggested that they bring Maria with them to Rosembool. Alphonse was all for it, Edward was not. It was hard enough leaving Munich with Alfons during his years in Europe, and he had to be convinced to leave and tread away from the place of which he assumed he could easily get back. Maria would do the same.

Maria. Speaking of. She had spent most of her days in her room with the curtains drawn. She didn't come out, not even for dinner, and Hawkeye feared she was losing weight. But Edward strictly told them never to interfere with Maria's mood. He would, when he felt right and knew of a better solution, approach her. For now, she needed to be left alone. He was right in doing so, for Maria felt more out of place than she did when she first landed in Central. She didn't like the food, the clothes, and the culture. She felt alone, isolated, lost, and no one was helping her get back from where she came. Sure, Edward had tried, but he failed. Being alone in the dark was the only thing that was able to sooth her rushing mind and hurting soul.

It wasn't until three days later, on December 25th, the day in which Christmas was supposed to be happening for Maria, that Edward saw her emerge from her room. Edward had woken up at the crack of dawn in order to travel to the library and take up his research once again. Being as intelligent as he was, he found it odd that he couldn't find a solution quick enough, and it was eating him up inside more than the fact that Maria couldn't get home. The Gate, a large and mysterious thing, always found a way to elude even the most intelligent of alchemists; himself, his father, and many between. But Edward knew that no matter how many books he pulled from those dusty shelves, and he's pulled a lot, he'd never truly understand the Gate's power until he, himself, met his end. But the library was quiet and the librarian was finally used to seeing him, so he went.

Edward had snuck out of the room before Alphonse could be woken up, washed his face and tied up his hair, before grabbing his coat and bag and heading out the small room into the large corridors of Central Command. There were no lights on, but the sun was casting long golden shadows along the walls and showing Edward enough light for him to follow. He passed the large room that Maria was dancing and almost walked right on past if he hadn't heard a soft thump and a sigh of frustration from the other side of the door.

Edward stopped and listened again, pressing his ear against the wood and holding his breath. Sure enough, there was another thump, a growl of anger, and some stomping around. Someone was in there, attempting to do something, but was failing. Edward gently pushed open the door and peeked inside.

All the windows were open so that the sun bounced off the glass on the other side of the room and there was a yellow haze over everything. It was beautiful, to Edward, watching the dust from the moving girl settle, surprised, and land on the floor before being kicked up again by her attempted twirls. Edward watched as the small frame, tan now because of the light, got up from where she was sitting on the ground and positioned herself. She was wearing a tight long sleeve shirt and her tights under a thin skirt, far too cold for being outside, but Edward could tell from her red forehead that she was overheating anyway. She looked smaller to Edward, weaker, like a part of her was being taken away from herself and given to something else. Something that was sucking away all her life, but it wasn't the Gate, no, the Gate wouldn't do that. It was her dancing.

Edward watched as she took a deep breath and hopped on one foot, balanced, and flicked her other foot around and twirled. She tried to do this over and over again but only got to the third time around before falling on her knees. She let out a yell of frustration, like the one that caught Edward's attention in the first place, and slammed her fists against the wood before her. Sighing and breathing hard, she reached up through her hair to her face, Edward couldn't see this, and wiped something away; Edward assumed it was tears.

She stood up again, twirled again, fell down again, and sighed again.

Then she attempted to just stand there, with her leg up, and stretch with her toes pointed, making an upside down 'L' shape with her whole body. She held it for a few moments, and again, fell.

Edward gently placed his bag on the food and took off his coat before unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up so that they stopped right above his elbows. He reached up and tightened his ponytail before walking out onto the wood towards Maria. She had gone back to twirling and had fallen once again, gotten up, and positioned herself. Edward was never really one to be impulsive and invasive, always preferring to calculate and understand something before diving in, always wanting to understand every single component of the problem before finally stepping towards it with his solution. But Maria wasn't a problem that his chemistry could solve. There was no solution that he could think of which his great mind that could possibly soothe her. The only thing he could do was do what she was doing; functioning only on emotion and with the flesh and something deep inside him that didn't ever want to tell him its real plan. Edward gently coughed.

Maria spun around—Why couldn't she just twirl like that?—and watched as Edward approached her. When he was close enough, he held out his hand. She took it, and he took another step forward. Taking the hand she had given him, Edward placed it gently in his before taking her second hand and placing it on his own shoulder. When Edward was sure she was prepared, for she silently looked down at their feet and squared her shoulders, Edward snaked his hand around her waist. He kept his fingers wide so that the circumference reached the entirety of Maria's small back. Gently, he pushed her forward so that she was closer to him.

At that angle, it can be said that Edward was a full head taller than Maria, while Alphonse would be equal to Edward's height. Smirking softly, Edward tilted his head and led the two of them in a ball dance. Maria followed suit silently, going over the steps mechanically, not looking up at Edward but at the buttons on his shirt, seeming to find all the answers in his heart than in his eyes. Edward looked over her head and made sure not to trip over her.

He could feel from her spine that Hawkeye was correct; she had been losing weight. And he would most certainly scold her about this after their dance. But at the time being, he wanted to enjoy it.

Edward and Maria worked well together, and soon Maria was able to pull away from him, spin, and come back into his arms smoothly. Her cheeks had dried but Edward distinctly saw red splotches over them. Edward smiled at her as she breathed deeply when he pulled her close and swayed with her, when she rested her head upon his chest, and tightened her grip on his own. Then he would let her go, let her spin free, her arms stretched out and welcoming this new world, before he would take her again in his shelter made of his arms.

It came to the point, in their dancing, that Edward had bent his head low and pressed his cheek against her own hot ones, and she'd reply with lifting her chin up and greeting him. And again, he'd sway with her and send her spinning before him. He watched as her cheeks started to redden even more, and it wasn't because she was crying. She smiled, the type of smile he once saw in a photograph, and for the first time during their dance, she looked him in the eyes.

She sighed again and looked down as he pulled her to him, and she swayed her hips with his again. Bashful, she was, which was odd for a girl of such fire, Edward thought. She could become so passionate, so embodied with her opinions and her voice that Edward never thought that she could just be a simple being, doing a simple dance, with a simple man. He always assumed that she'd find a way to complicate things a little more than she had to, and find a way to undermine him in the process. But Edward soon discovered that dancing wasn't her only worry. No, dancing was her therapy against her worries. He watched her, her eyes glass over, her upper teeth bite down on her lower lip, her body curve towards him and back again, and he understood and became entranced at the sight of her. However not nearly as entranced as she was in her dancing. He watched as her mind became blank, only coming to focus when she was pressed against him, because it was at that moment that Maria didn't want to make a fool of herself. She was like a little doll; porcelain, small, weak doll.

Finally, Edward found himself with his arms wrapped around her waist and her hands pressed against his chest, pulling him closer more than pushing him away. Her nose was nuzzled into the bone that marked the union of his shoulder and collarbone, and Edward was rubbing circles in her lower back with his thumb to comfort her. He had buried his face into her hair and was breathing in her scent, and he mentally thanked her for still cleaning herself in her days of isolation. And they were swaying again, no twirling or fancy moves or balancing, only swaying slowly, silently, they hadn't spoken all morning.

Edward leaned down, closer to her ear, and kissed the bit between the top of her earlobe and her hairline, making her shudder. That's right, Edward hadn't shaved properly in the last few days, and his facial hair tickled her. He smiled against her head, felt her ear rise in her own smile, and continued to sway.

Something about her fragile power, her small frail body shaking and shivering, that gave him the initiative to protect her. Obviously, Edward noted bitterly, no one in her other world had properly tended to her. Her grandmother branded her and her own mother couldn't give her a form of heat at night, but he let those thoughts pass. He'd never understand her desperation to go home no matter how hard he tried, but he didn't need to worry about that either. For the moment, kissing her below the ear now, Edward only worried about the illogical, unreasonable, utterly unscientific girl wrapped in his arms, pressed against him, comfortable, warm, safe. Edward mused over the fact that some things, like girls and worlds and Gates and love, were never all that logical to begin with.

And Maria looked at him, questioningly, with her deep blue eyes looking up into his gold ones, asking something that he didn't know the answer to. Do you really? She asked. I'm not sure. He replied. Is it true? Are you going to? Is it unwise? Will you regret it? You shouldn't ask so much. And Edward allowed his hands to gently slide up her body, she complied, and cup her face in his hands. She leaned in to them, welcomed them, and her eyes fluttered slightly as he gazed in to her. Slowly, because he didn't want to surprise her, he rubbed his thumbs across her cheeks and pulled her to him, simultaneously leaning down closer to her. He noted that her fingers and found his front pocket of his white shirt and was pulling him closer by that means. She still smelled great, her cheeks an even deeper red in the splotches, her lips pink now, and Edward smiled as she closed her eyes and waited for him.

And then a red light shone from all around the small petite body, and Edward felt her warmth fade away from him, move away from his lips, ones that never met hers, and in the golden light of the sun, she disappeared.


A whole 2000 words without dialog? Does this bother you?