A/N: I am my own beta reader, any mistakes therefore' are mine.

Words in 'Ishvalan' can be looked up here: Capn_hoozit's Ishvallan Dictionary on the sons-of-the-desert-fma tumblr site

I apologize for not having an available link but FF.N will not allow links. They are stupid that way.

9.

Rada met him at the door.

"Tim was just here! He told me what was..." Rada stopped and looked at the child Scar was carrying and her hands slipped to her mouth. "Sweet Ishvalla!" she murmured.

Veela, silent now, hung limp in Scar's arms, her face buried in the crook of his neck. Any remaining fight and protest had expired at last. She was not, however, asleep.

"Did Doctor Marcoh tell you anything about her?" Scar asked making his way down their hall to the bathroom.

"He mentioned that she was malnourished and had some scars?" Rada followed after him. He saw that she had prepared for him, the tub already filled with soap and water. Clean clothes lay nearby.

"Yes, they were inflicted as a form of discipline." His voice held a hint of warning as he settled on a knee to the floor. He shifted Veela around.

At the sight of Rada she instantly slammed her back into his chest, a gasp escaping her. Scar had one hand on her arm and the other on her leg and he felt the wave of terror that swept through her.

Rada, startled, saw the look that crossed her husband's face and she knew just what happened when he abruptly released his grip on Veela's leg.

"It's okay, laleh." he quickly, gently spoke. "This is Zhaarana Rada, she won't hurt you, I promise." Scar murmured. "Don't be scared."

Scar glanced at his wife. "She's terrified," he said quietly.

"Of women?" Rada asked,

"They were the ones to inflict the scars," Scar said. "Did Marcoh leave anything for her to take?"

"Yes, it's in the kitchen. I mixed in it a glass of milk. He's worried about her diet."

"We'll give it to her afterwards," he said, "Let's just both do this." He nodded his head at the tub.

"I've made up a bed in Danika's room."

"We might be better off with just a bedroll on the floor in our room." At the puzzled look on Rada's face he added, "It's what she's used to. She's had a rough time of it, for one so little."

"Of course!" Rada smiled at him. "How old is she?"

"She's six."

Rada blinked and looked sharply at him, then she looked at Veela and gave her a gentle smile.

Veela shrunk back when Rada touched the curls falling onto her forehead. "Look at what beautiful curls, you have," She said gently to Veela. "I bet your hungry too. Let's give you a quick bath and I'll give you something to eat, all right?"

Scar settled back, letting the mother in Rada take over, and he watched as she worked at gaining a little bit of trust from an already scared and exhausted child. He kept one ear open, listening to the sounds his twins were making from their play area in the living room. Veela was so tired that she just trembled as Rada gave her a quick bath, looking imploringly past her to him.

Scar had suddenly become her new rock in a very scary world.

He smiled ruefully, even the walk from the market to their home had produced a fair amount of local excitement. Not to mention titters and giggles from behind the hands of passing woman and girls. He supposed it did look a little odd for him to be walking down the street with a strange child in his arms.

He was grateful to the Creator yet again though, at this amazing woman He had seen fit to give him as a wife. Especially to a wretch such as himself. He was also grateful for her gentle, careful, cajoling manner in dealing with a child like Veela. Before he knew it, Rada had her scrubbed clean from head to toe and she stood on their bathroom floor, engulfed in a towel.

Rada had said nothing when seeing the circular scars on her body. She glanced at her husband who had gone silent, deep in his thoughts, yet again. She selected a dress from some of Danika's smaller clothes and she quietly asked. "Does she speak, Andakar? She's awfully quiet, even for one so tired."

"Papa and No." Scar replied. "Those are the only words I have heard so far. And that not much more above a whisper. She didn't even scream when Miles and I had to catch her." He briefly related what had occurred when he had been called out that very early morning, including the dash into a live ordinance field.

"It's strange, don't you think, that she's not acting out?" She asked and helped slip the dress on over Veela's head.

"I think that might be a credit to her father," Scar snorted softly. "He manipulated Miles, and by happenstance myself, into going out and getting her."

Rada looked at Scar in mild surprise as she ruffle dried Veela's curls with the towel. "He what?"

Scar's face softened a bit as a smirk curled one corner of his lips. "He's confined to the fort. So he challenged Miles that he couldn't find his child. Miles walked right into it."

"Oh dear..." Rada said and smiled at Veela, who still appeared like a calf looking at a new gate.

"The Colonel was not impressed," Scar added. He looked down at Veela.

"All right, moppet." He said, slipping his hands under her arms and rising. He settled her on his hip. "Let's get something to eat."

"I think I hear Mattas getting into something, knowing him." Rada said, "Just leave this, I'll clean up here in a moment." She went ahead of him, turning for the living room. Of their twins, Mattas was the first to begin furniture walking while Winry was still content to just crawl. It was only a matter of a very short period of time before they would have two very active toddlers running loose in their home.

Scar found the small glass of milk sitting on the counter and a dish with cheese, some fruits and flatbread slices. For a moment, he just stood there coaxing Veela to drink down the milk. She was bleary eyed. Then he gathered the plate and sat at their low kitchen table, perching her on his leg. He could hear Mattas' gleeful chortle as Rada played with him. He felt Veela shift. She had leaned into him, turning her face into his chest, before reaching up and rubbing her eye with a tiny hand. He tried coaxing her to eat, but she just shook her head, turning her face away.

"C'mon, laleh," he murmured, "Eat a little something."

"Papa?" she whispered, still fighting the battle with keeping her eyes open.

"Tomorrow, little moppet. I'll take you to see him, tomorrow." His thoughts turned inwards again, only for a moment.

Rada, entering the kitchen with Mattas perched on her hip, shook Scar from his reverie. She stopped, giving him a knowing smile and nodded. Glancing down he saw that Veela finally lost the battle with sleep. Her eyes were closed, she was slumped into him and she had her index knuckle tucked into the corner of her mouth.

"You just have your way with little girls don't you?" Rada said to him and smiled at the look he gave her.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked.

Rada just softly laughed at him, reaching up to tickle Mattas's belly. He let out a squeal as Scar gathered Veela up and rose.

"Big scary man. Tiny little girl. Quite a juxtapostion." Rada said, swinging Mattas down, who promptly grabbed hold of the bench and began stumbling towards his father, grinning gleefully.

"You're a child whisperer!" She grinned again at the look he gave her. "Let me go make up a bed for her." She stepped up, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek then peered a moment into Veela's face, running a hand through her damp curls and ringlets. She grew sombre.

"Who could do such thing to a child?"

Scar didn't answer. A glance at him told her though just what he'd like to do to people who tried.

It was one of those transmissions Miles had to do but inherently despised. That of apprising Brigadier General Mustang of what had happened at the Fort. Most of the time things were smooth sailing, but this time there had been a major hiccup. He'd gone over and over in his sleep deprived head if he had missed anything. He did not wish for a repeat of what had happened a little more than a year ago. He had had to step in and stop a potentially very ugly situation. One where he had to draw his service weapon on an unarmed, and very drunk, Ishvallan citizen.

That situation hadn't gone over too well.

Having laid out the details to Mustang of what had occurred, he stood staring at Taige's dossier which he'd retrieved before heading over to the communications tent. He barely had enough time to splash cold water into his face, and had yet to get himself cleaned up from having to chase down Veela.

Roy, on the other end of the line, sighed. Miles could almost see him running his fingers through his dark hair in frustration.

"Seems the situation is in hand, Colonel," Roy tried not to sound patronizing. "It just doesn't go down to well having a soldier go rogue in front of crowd, even if it was for humanitarian reasons. Worse, having that soldier be Ishvallan on top of it."

"Any soldier, sir," Miles said and he heard Roy huff on the other end of the line.

"True enough, Miles, my mistake." There was a pause then Mustang asked. "It sounds though as if there is something else underlying the situation?"

"I'm not sure. I've gone through Taige's dossier with a fine tooth comb. He's had a good record, been up for several commendations and was refused for reason's we don't need to cover any more. Like most of us in Ishval, he's bilingual, or trilingual in his case, speaks Auregan as well. He's what he says he is, but there is that bit of service he was in before being decommissioned. Working with the Mounted Patrol in Central. I suspect he might have had the same capacity with the South City Cavalry. Which would explain the Auregan he can speak. Then there are the interment records, if they can even be located. Somehow this guy managed to slip through Central's fingers and didn't get sent to the labs. I'm curious also to see if anything got reported to Victoria about child traffickers."

Miles had told the General the entire story of Veela.

"Let me pull a few strings in Central, Colonel," Roy said, "Let me get with Major Armstrong. He's slowing being moved towards Hughes' former position. He'd be the one to be able to find that information out and get it to you."

Miles smirked. It had been good news to hear that Alex Armstrong finally had been receiving better assignments since his stance on the Ishvallan war of extermination. That despite the scathing vitriol his own sister felt about it. The man still deserved a promotion, however. "I'd appreciate that, General."

"Anything else you need to add? You sound whipped."

"My apologies General. How about good nights sleep? I've been up nearly 48 hours." Miles replied ruefully. "Actually there is one more thing," Miles said propping an elbow on the table and rubbing at his eyes. "Have Alex find what he can about a Sergeant William Bryant."

"The one who said he helped subdue Corporal Taige?"

"The same. Just call it a hunch. I'm interested to see what this guy's background is as well."

"Can do. What do you intend to do with Taige?"

"At the moment he's confined to the stockade. Marcoh's got him on medical leave for some broken ribs and that head bashing he got. I may confine him to the Fort on work detail. I can't just let him sit around. He's been damned good so far in getting the horses healed up. He has the experience with them which I know is why he acted as he did."

Miles sighed. "I'll wait a week. I don't think a court martial is necessary. I also don't want to lose this guy, if this works out he'd be an asset in getting more Ishvallans enlisted. Anything to help get this Fort up and running. By the end of the week, this may have blown over enough to warrant this. It will have to go in his records though."

"Sounds logical." Roy replied. " All right Colonel, sounds like you do have this well under control."

"When haven't I?" Miles asked and was rewarded with a slight chuckle from the other end of the line.

"Next time I make it there I need to meet this guy, and his child."

"He's certainly created a bit of a stir, just showing up out of the blue. His little girl though, is really going to create one." Miles smirked.

"Because?"

"Ever seen a Ishvallan with curly hair?"

"All right private," Bryant leered up at one of the MP's backed up against the wall of the barn. "I can let your payment slide for information like that." He brushed down the front of the man's uniform. The MP looking down at him in a mixture of disgust and fear.

"You're certain that's d'entire phone call to Eastern Command?"

"Everything." The MP muttered, shame creeping up into his face. "And I need to get back to my post before I'm missed."

"Certainly, certainly." Bryant continued to brush his jacket off. His blue eyes inscrutable and a coy smirk curling his lips. "Just be ready to pay up next week and that little secret between us stays secret. Wouldn't want to send you packing out of d'Fort now, would we?"

"No..."

"No what?" Bryant asked, looking up at the MP sharply.

"No, sir."

"You got that right," Bryant growled at him, tapping on an object in his pocket. "Now scurry along little mouse. Go back to your post."

The MP looked at him sourly and hurried away.

Bryant stood still, reaching up to rub at his chin, his eyes alive with activity. "You just wait, Corporal desert rat. I'll get you under my thumb somehow. I'm not done with you yet..."