Disclaimer: I don't own FullMetal Alchemist, or any of the characters from the series used in this fic. They all belong to Hiromu Arakawa. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.
Chapter 10: Scrap Metal
A/N: I know I promised this chapter months ago. I'm sorry. There has been so much happening outside of fandom, and I lost track of this fic completely. The sad thing is, the chapter has been done since, I think, April. However, it's up now, so those of you who have been waiting, now have another chapter to satisfy for a while. Sadly, I have no idea how long it'll take before 11 is done. I'll try to work on it this week, but I work weird hours that change every week, so there's no telling when it'll be done. Still, I will try.
Right now, I'm damn happy I went and bought the first FMA series, because it put me back on my alchemy kick.
"I'm sorry, sir," the man at the desk huffed, not once looking up from his novel. "But we can't just allow any old urchin off the street into our military archives. I hope you understand."
Urchin? Who was he calling an urchin? Winston looked down at his clothes, realizing that he actually was much more dirty than when he'd arrived at the station the day before. He hadn't even showered, as the train yard didn't have such a thing. Just a stream running past, where he'd gone to wash his face. Even so, he thought it a bit rude for this librarian to be treating him like he was inferior based on something so shallow as a first impression. He'd come to the library to research more alchemy, not to be treated like dirt.
Winston leaned forward on an arm, Annabel motioning to him silently with her hands. If he understood correctly, he was to distract the man, while she rushed into the back room and gathered the books for him. His eyes widened with remembrance, reaching into his pants pocket for a slip of paper. On it were the names of several books that had been referenced in the one he'd brought from home. He handed it to her, then turned his attention back to the librarian.
"Let me get this straight," he said, trying to sound thoughtful. "This is a public library, yet it's not completely open to the public? Well, that hardly seems right."
The librarian slammed his book shut, looking up at Winston through his round glasses. "Only certain sections of the library are off limits, sir," he replied with a grimace. "I'm not sure if you saw, but this is the First National Library of Amestris. And, as such, we have been entrusted with various forms of documentation that, despite this being a public library, are not available to persons without military authorization. Do I make myself clear, sir?"
Winston nodded, reaching back into his pocket. "Military authorization, you say. Well, would this," he lifted the watch for the man to see, "qualify, perchance?"
Annabel then appeared behind one of the shelves, motioning to him, pointing to a stack of about four books that sat at her feet. Winston shifted a bit, trying to make it appear natural, before pushing his suitcase across the floor to her, watching for a moment as she piled the books inside before sitting down on top of it.
The librarian smirked, shaking his head. "The organization of the State Alchemists was disbanded nearly twenty years ago, sir. That watch you have is little more than a useless piece of scrap metal."
Scrap metal? The nerve. State Alchemists were still revered by the people as heroes. Men and women who had put their lives, and morals, on the line to keep this great nation safe. Although they had been used primarily as human weapons, their power abused by the late Fuhrer Bradley, they still deserved respect. And Winston would not allow this man to spit on the title his father had held.
Normally, he would have held his tongue, but this was a much more personal matter.
"Listen here," he huffed, grabbing the man by his tie. "You're gonna straighten up, and stop talking about State Alchemists like they were dogs! They're people, just like us! People who were given a duty, and fulfilled it! People who, despite being used as weapons of war, still had families and friends. I'll have you know, my father was one of them, and I will not have you talk about him that way!"
A hand fell on his shoulder, pulling him back and away from the librarian.
"Morning, Mr. Andre," said a voice. "Having a bit of trouble with the kids again, are we? Such a shame that there's always a couple trying to stir up trouble. Most kids around here are really quite fond of you, I hear."
Winston turned and looked at the man behind him. A military officer, judging by the uniform, and a high-ranking one, too. Though he couldn't be all that wise, telling this man that kids actually liked him. He didn't know how that could be. This Mr. Andre had been a right foul pig to him in no time flat, and Winston, generally a very proper boy, had the sudden desire to knock the librarian's lights right out of his skull.
"Another troubled morning, General," the man replied, giving Winston a smirk. "Why, this young man and his little friend had the nerve to come in here and request top-secret clearance to military records!" Mr. Andre snatched the watch out of Winston's hand, holding it out to the officer. "And with this, to boot!"
The soldier eyeballed the watch for a moment before taking it in a gloved hand, rolling it over in his palm before pocketing it. "I see. Well, don't worry about these kids, Mr. Andre. I'll take care of them for you." The man patted his pocket. "And I'll ensure that you don't see one of these in the wrong hands again."
"Hey!" Winston said, pulling himself out of the man's grasp. "Give that back! It's mine!"
The soldier's dark eyes shone as he laughed. "That's a good one, son," he said, taking Winston by the arm. "But no more games. You and your friend are in big trouble." The man looked at Annabel and motioned for her to follow. "Come on. You're both coming with me."
# - # - # - #
She must have searched every closet, every stall of every restroom in the building, and still nothing. Shirking his duties yet again, and probably having a right good time of it. The years may have changed his status, his credibility to an extent, but they certainly hadn't changed the somewhat arrogant and foolish man who had been under her father's tutelage.
Roy Mustang was in a class all his own.
Officers scurried down the halls as she strode past, her demeanor speaking for itself. Years of childish games, not at all the sort she had an interest in playing, had changed nothing in her, either. As his subordinate, his assistant, his friend, his protector, even, in passing, something a bit more personal, her sense of duty hadn't been swayed in the slightest. As soldiers, their obligation was first, to their country, second, to their work, and third, to themselves and each other. And, seeing how the general was still very fond of skipping tedious and lengthy sheets of paperwork, it seemed that they were both stuck with the man's second duty.
"That man..." she sighed, opening the office door. "Lieutenant Alder, what have you to report?"
The young man at the desk stood up swiftly, knocking several pages to the floor. He hesitated in his salute, wondering whether or not he should continue, or put things back in order. His hand flew to his forehead appropriately, sweat beading on his brow. It made the major wonder just how long it would take for him to get over this irrational fear he had of her.
"Nothing yet, sir," he replied in a level tone, maintaining the salute. "I've made calls around the city just as you requested, and, thus far, nothing has turned up. I'm very sorry."
Riza nodded, the lieutenant's hand returning to his side. Alder had nothing to be sorry about. He was here at his post as required, fulfilling his duty with a fervent attitude that, once, had made her hopeful. When he had risen under the general's jurisdiction, she'd initially thought that his strong sense of accomplishing his tasks on time would eventually rub off on their superior officer. Yet, in the six months since the young man's arrival, there had been no new developments with Roy's slacking off.
A knock sounded on the door, and she turned, mutely noting that the lieutenant had set himself to work with collecting the scattered pages.
"Come in."
The door opened slightly, a young female officer with nut brown hair walking in with a firm salute. "Forgive my intrusion, Major," she said, "but I'm afraid I have some... good and bad news."
Riza straightened up a bit, nodding. She couldn't appear anxious. "Yes?"
"I just received word the General Mustang was sighted at the First National Library. It would seem he was making his daily round of visitations, and happened upon some children who were stirring up trouble." She lifted a hand to straighten out her uniform a bit. "The bad news is that the Aerugonian military's liaison, Colonel Edgar Valen, has arrived and asked to speak with the general..."
That couldn't have been right. She turned on her heel, marching to the desk and sifting through the stacks of paper until she found the one that outlined the general's monthly schedule. Sure enough, on this very day, August 11th, there was a perfectly clear note that stated Colonel Valen's visit to discuss the treaty on behalf of Parliament.
What perfect timing the general had, skipping out on a day like today.
It wasn't at all her place to say, but Riza couldn't help wondering why the higher ups had dared to put a man like Roy Mustang in charge of speaking with such an important guest. They ought to have known how utterly foolish he could be, but, unfortunately, she'd covered and made him look far too good. Now, he was digging himself into a pit. And she was going to end up falling in with him.
The major nodded, thus dismissing the officer.
"Roy Mustang, just you wait until I -"
"Why, hello there, Major!" came a triumphant cry as the door opened. "What a lovely day it is, don't you agree?"
She turned on him with daggers in her eyes, far too easily ignored as Roy sauntered into the office, towing with him a couple of kids. Likely the two who had tried to cause trouble at the library. Funnily enough, one of them looked very familiar, what with his blond hair and long coat. The other, a redheaded little girl, trudged behind, looking rather bothered by the fact that this foolish man had dragged her away from something that must have been important to a child's mind.
"General, there's something I must discuss with you now!" Riza said, raising her voice higher than needed. "It's about your meeting with Colonel Valen of Aerugo. You should have been present ten minutes ago!"
Roy smiled, taking his seat and ushering Lieutenant Alder away. "Valen, eh?" He paused a moment, looking rather thoughtful. "Aw, screw him. The man's a stuffed shirt anyway. It'll do him a world of good to learn some serious patience."
She could practically see the dirt flying over his shoulder as he continued digging his grave.
"All right, kid," he said, leaning across the desk to stare at the boy. Roy held a silver pocket watch in his hand, very much like the one he had once carried. "Where did this come from? You steal it or what?"
The boy frowned in protest, stamping his foot. "I did not! It's mine! Now give it back!"
After the fall of the old military, Parliament had stepped in and altered the system, creating one in which the people of Amestris had their say in votes as for who was to lead them. With that change, the State Alchemist organization had also been disbanded, through, due to the circumstances as to the late Fuhrer's abuse of power, their wrongs had not been pursued.
"You expect me to believe this is yours?" Roy chuckled. "Boy, just how old are you?"
"Fourteen."
The general stood, swinging the watch around by the chain. "The State Alchemist system was abolished about twenty years ago. Now, unless I'm worse at Mathematics than I originally believed, the difference between twenty and fourteen is six. Ergo, this can't possibly be your property."
"General..."
He was really quite terrible at speaking to people, namely those whose opinions differed from his own. Roy had a bit of a problem with pushing past the boundaries of teasing, going straight to a less intense form of harassment. It was evident on the boy's face, which now looked a bit red. It certainly wasn't hot in the office, either.
"Just open it!" the boy shouted, slamming a hand on the desk. "Open it and you'll see!"
The general stared at the child for a moment before glancing to her. Palm up, he flipped his wrist, sending the watch flying into her own hands with a nod.
"Well, you heard the boy, Major," he smirked. "Go ahead and open it."
The metal was cool against her fingers, growing warmer by the second as she tampered with the knob at the top. With a click, the lid opened, the hands on the face of the watch ticking slowly, the gears perhaps worn out a bit by time. Peering inside, the major's eyes widened, moving from the watch to the young man standing by the general's desk. It was no wonder he had looked so familiar to her, what with that golden hair and a gaze that burned like a brush fire.
Not a word was spoken between them as Riza crossed the room to stand at the general's side, staring quietly at the boy as she placed the watch gently on the desk.
"It's a joke, isn't it, Major?" Roy laughed, snatching the device. "Just tell me: What's the punchline?"
The major said nothing.
There was a moment of silence as the snickering died down, the child's glare focusing upon the general once more. Promptly, he stood, the legs of the chair scraping against the carpet as it fell back against the wall.
"Well, I'll be damned," he murmured, the watch clasped within his fist. Air fell upon her face as he pushed past, swiftly moving to stand in front of the seemingly proud young man. The general's gloved hand was outstretched then, taking that of the boy in a firm handshake. "I suppose it's a real pleasure to meet you... Mr. Elric."