AN: Yeah... I have no excuse... Sorry S. :(

But hey... I'm back... o.o;

Please don't kill me?

Fides - Trust

Edward retreated swiftly, finding the nondescript servant's stairwell again and taking each step two at a time. He kept his head down and focused on his feet. So, naturally he didn't notice when someone turned the corner he was about to go around, coming from the opposite direction.

So, naturally, he collided with that someone.

And that someone was revealed to be Yoki.

Yoki gave a loud, undignified shriek of protest at being bumped into so unceremoniously. The little man had to catch himself on the banister on the far wall to avoid tumbling. Edward thought he was being a bit overdramatic.

Yoki sputtered and raged at his unidentified attacker, and was soon to realize who exactly was being so careless. He fumed, his pasty face turning an unattractive shade of red. "Well, if it isn't Elric! Finally off bed rest and out to put someone else in the infirmary, are we?" the wiry man demanded.

Edward just looked at the footman. The manor has a library, and an infirmary? Rose's tour-giving skills are deplorable.

Yoki did not wait for a response. "Now, Rose tells me you've been missing all day! Said she sent you off for a much needed bath," he gave Ed a scathing up-and-down look, "which hopefully you've taken advantage of. And then you just didn't return! We don't need slackers in the Rockbell Manor, mister Elric – "

Spurred on by some strange and sudden trigger, Edward dropped his submissive and eloquent manners and stepped around Yoki casually, his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. Sorry."

Yoki gaped in complete and utter shock, then sputtered in rage, "I don't like your tone! You disrespectful, arrogant little – "

Ed promptly stopped listening and trotted easily down the stairs. He did not turn back, did not stop to apologize, he just continued walking. But he was horrified. Where had that come from? He was supposed to be a slave; an indentured servant. He should not be mouthing off to his superiors, even if the master held preference for him.

It wasn't like him, to have that spark of defiance. It wasn't like him at all.

Anymore.

Heavens knew it had been beaten out of him. Harshly.

Grimly he hurried through the dull hallways, paying attention to his habits. He removed his hands from his pockets and stood up straighter. He made his face impassive and cleared his mind.

There. Servant once again.

He felt an object in his pocket. It was the white knight chess piece. He'd forgotten to return it to Winry.

Days had passed since Winry had last seen her favorite servant. She hated calling him that, but what else could she call him? Were they friends now? Could they be called that, even with the strangeness of their relationship? She already knew what her mother thought of her familiar behavior when it pertained to him.

Winry smiled. Her mother was rather comfortable with it, having decided it was Winry's idolizing of the servant who saved her father's life that spurred her into going out of her way to find the boy. Winry had decided not to correct her dear mother.

She had longed to speak to the servant boy after seeing him that first day on the stairs.

Winry, having just recovered from a fever and stomach pains, decided to ask to go out today. The day was cold and snow threatened, but Christmas was right around the corner. She ought to ask her parents if she could just go out on her own, with Edward as her escort. She smiled. Yes, that seemed like a fun idea indeed. Winry flitted down the stairs in slippered feet, mint green skirts aflutter, and tripped lightly over the soft carpets to the door of the study.

Her eyes were drawn, for a moment, to the grain of the wood. It swirled in the center of the door, around a knot. She knew the knot had once been a branch. It was strange to think of the door having once been a large, beautiful tree. A living thing, growing and providing for the community of life around them. Now reduced to a thick plank covering a square hole in the wall.

When she suddenly heard voices.

"Why don't you just free the boy, Urey?"

"It's not that simple. I need the documents, and I want to get to the bottom of this. Parliament has to know of this activity."

"I never liked your brother."

"Yes, dear. I know."

"...You know, mother sent me a letter. She said with all the funds and respect we have now, we qualify for viscountship. She said the pasture and orchards did well this summer, and the mill is still bringing in income as well. How ridiculous."

"If only Queen Victoria would be so kind. Maybe then we could accumulate the resources needed to stop this."

"At last, you're on the same track as me, my dear."

Shocked, Winry catapulted through the door, face pale. There stood the startled owners of the voices; her parents with wide eyes. The girl could only stare at them as she tried to decide what on earth what she had heard meant. Something about their words alarmed her.

Her mother, composing herself, smiled kindly at her daughter. "Winry dear, you startled us. What's got you in such a whirl?"

Winry blinked. Then she asked, "What were you talking about just now, mother?" Her eyes held suspicion, and she used the formal term of 'mother' instead of the usual 'mama.'

She was rewarded with a slight wince from her mother. Then the lady composed herself again and smiled. "Just adult talk, sweet one. Is there something you needed?"

Her father just stood there with his hands in his pockets, watching Winry's face steadily, not anxious like his wife was. Will she realize it?

Winry blinked again, and said hesitantly, suspiciously, "Yes... I wanted to go out to the market today... I thought I could ask Edward to take me..."

Her parents shared the briefest of glances. It went almost unnoticed by the confused girl. But her father nodded, his blue eyes steady and affectionate. "Yes. I think that is a fine idea." With a kiss to his wife's cheek, Urey Rockbell went to fetch Edward. She followed his every movement until he was out of sight, mind reeling.

Smiling, her mother approached her and touched her cheek. "Be careful, love." And with that, she brushed passed her, serene and silent save for the whisper of skirts.

Winry hesitated in the door way, staring down at the navy blue carpet. She dared to wonder... What were they talking about? Oh, how she hated secrets. How she hated being left out... With a sigh, she quit the room and closed the door roughly behind her. Calling up her previous cheer, she tried to dredge up a smile as she went up to her room to find proper shoes and her coat.

Ed hadn't seen hide nor hair of Miss Winry for a few days since the music room. Rose had been attending to the young lady while Ed had been handling Rose's chores. Apparently the girl had caught a fever and was in quite the bout of pain. Ed had caught himself biting the inside of his cheek or tapping his foot over the course of the week for reasons unbeknownst to him.

At least... he'd convinced himself he didn't know.

But now he was searching for his clean gloves and jacket with furious agitation, because the girl who he now served was going out, and he would escort her. Naturally. But damn it all if his gloves had been sucked into some rift and now resided in some other dimension... It certainly seemed that way.

Frantically he buttoned up his jacket over his tailcoat, and scrambled out of his room yanking on a pair of white gloves. Yes – room. Urey had forgotten to mention that during the time Ed was sentenced to bed rest, they had moved the servant's quarters inside the mansion. The master had apparently been planning to move them out of that godforsaken barracks for ages now, and finally finished installing cots into a handful of large industrial rooms with concrete floors and walls. Oh, and Ed didn't have a cot. They forgot to order one. So Urey had laughingly told him he could keep the gold and black room he had recovered in – no one was using it anyway.

These people were blasted crazy.

So Edward hitched one of the carriages with a single Clydesdale, fidgeting with the door and brushing the seats free of invisible dirt or other filth that...likely didn't exist. Expelling a breath, he wondered why he was being so jumpy. It was rather ridiculous.

But when the large front door opened, letting warm air pour out into the cold, Edward glanced up and saw her there with her mother. He found himself fighting a smile as Mrs. Rockbell fussed with her daughter's coat buttons and fur-lined hat. The exasperated expression on Miss Winry's face was hilarious when her mother suddenly rushed back inside and hurried back with a scarf, which she wound around her daughter's neck herself.

Winry finally detangled herself from her fretting mother and wished her good bye. Sara Rockbell gave a desperate look to Edward, who stood by the carriage unmoving the entire time, before allowing herself to be lured back inside by Urey. Winry heaved a happy sigh and lightly tapped down the porch steps. She was bundled up against the winter air in many ruffled skirts that likely concealed thick stockings and fur-lined boots. Her dark blue coat was buttoned tightly against her navy dress and she had white mittens, a hat, and scarf. She also wore a smile that injected Edward with warmth; all the way down to his toes.

"Good morning, Edward!" She chirped happily as Ed bowed with his hand over his heart.

"Morning, Miss Winry." He responded neutrally as he held open the door. She gave him a reproachful look for the honorific, but when he sent a purposeful look toward the window, she noticed her father lingered there, watching them.

"Where to, Miss?" Edward asked as Winry planted her foot on the stair and hoisted herself with a hand from Edward.

She sat down heavily, plopping into the seat and making the carriage rock. Then she smiled at him beatifically. "We've all day! Let's go to Oxford Street!"

Clearly she hadn't been in a carriage lately. But Edward suppressed a sigh and nodded agreeably. "Alright, Miss. I'll alert you when we reach the city limits." Without further ado, Ed shut the door and set the latch. With a quick check of the carriage and horse to be sure everything was in order, Edward hoisted himself onto the driver's bench and snapped the horse into an easy trot.

Oxford Street was purchased and developed a time ago by the Earl of Oxford. When it used to be known for it the entertainers such as bear-baiters and masquerades, it became very known for its shops not long ago. It was also in the heart of London – a good three hour ride. Give or take a few, of course.

By the time they reached the city, Winry was already bored and sore-bottomed. To think they still had a ways to go before they reached Oxford. She could weep from the boredom. But finally she heard a rapping against the where the driver's bench was. She slid the window open and called out to Edward, who called back that they were here.

Happy as a child on Christmas, Winry pressed her hands to the glass and gawked at all the shops they passed as the carriage clip-clopped over the cobble stones. Edward pulled the carriage over at a stable, who ogled the ornate carriage greedily. Edward gave the hand a reprimanding glare and passed the young man a coin before helping Winry out.

Together they wandered the bustling street, Edward following Winry like a shadow. It proved difficult, however, when he realized exactly how quickly she got distracted. They had been observing some baubles at a street vendor's stall when Edward found something and tried to show it to her, only to find the girl gone. He found her only seconds later, with her nose pressed to the window of a small mechanics shop.

It took a lot of persuading to lure her out of there.

When they finally got back on track, Winry set out on her Christmas gift hunting. The girl had an astounding number of friends. Not only did she insist on purchasing each servant a gift, but she had societal friends and acquaintances as well, not to mention a gift for her parents.

A necklace for her music tutor, Lyra. A book for the kitchen boy, Russel, and a model train for his brother, Fletcher... A pair of sweaters for the stable boys. A shawl for the elderly maid, Dante. Rose was getting a particularly lovely cross necklace, decorated with semi-precious stones and woven with almost Celtic designs.

Winry was browsing for a new pair of earrings for her mother when a stall outside distracted her. Poor Ed huffed and followed after her, his arms full of boxes and parcels from her shopping.

"Edward, Edward! Look at this!"

Ed had to shuffle a few packages out of the way to peer over at what Winry was referring to. It was a street stall, one of many, decorated with silk and tassels draped around it. The woman behind the table wore some strange garment Ed had never seen before. Some kind of gown that was completely straight, with a thick cloth wrapped around the middle. The sleeves were long and billowing, and the garment seemed to be altered for cold weather. The woman had almond eyes and olive skin, as well and long, straight black hair that shone with health. She smiled at them from behind her table of goods, all of which seemed to be from some Asian culture. There were scrolls hung on the cloth behind her depicting unfamiliar artwork of some other culture.

"Are you interested in goods from Japan?" The woman spoke in a very thick accent, her tongue tripping over the vowels and consonants as if the way they were put together didn't quite agree with her.

But Winry was fawning over the artifacts with bubbly exuberance. "Oh, wouldn't May just love this? What sort of things to you have? Do you have anything with pandas?"

The woman smiled and said, "Pandas are from China, not Japan, lovely girl."

Winry visibly deflated. "Oh..."

Ed repressed an eye roll.

"However," the woman interjected, "I can make an origami panda."

Winry perked right up. "Oh, could you? I've very much like one." And so the woman went to work, first pulling out a sheet of thin, smooth parchment and drawing very precise lines and coloring exact shapes with black. Ed laid out a cloth to set the packages down on and stretched his arms over his head in relief. Winry watched the woman fold the paper, unfold it, and fold it again while Edward scanned the street.

Finally the woman presented Winry with a three-dimensional paper representation of a black and white panda bear. Winry sucked in a breath and cooed in delight. "Oh, it's perfect!" she took it happily and enclosed it in a box before adding it to one of the bags. She paid the woman fifty pence for it, but wasn't quite through.

"Could you show me how to make one?" She asked with hope in her eyes.

The woman seemed to consider this. "Panda is advanced. How about I show you a suiren?"

The girl tilted her head adorably at the foreign word that rolled off the Japanese woman's tongue beautifully. "Soo-ee-ren?" she tried to repeat in the same tongue.

The woman smiled, drawing out a few sheets of parchment that had been dyed pink. "It means water lily. It is rather simple; I've been making them since I was a girl."

Winry all but fell over herself agreeing, bending over the table to get closer to the parchment the woman was now instructing her to fold. Edward glanced over, curious what was taking so long, only to find himself distracted by the dip in his mistress's back as she bent over. Turning his scalding face away quickly, he went back to scanning the foot traffic with his arms crossed over his chest.

"A good try. More practice. You can keep these." Came the Japanese woman's voice from behind him. Ed glanced over his shoulder to see Winry cradling something in her hand as she reached over to shake the woman's hand in gratitude. When she turned to him, she had the happiest look in her clear blue eyes it floored him for a moment. She approached him and displayed the two pieces of origami. Four folded 'petals' reached skyward and sat on a square lily pad. One was clearly the work of an expert: neat creases, equal proportions, well defined. The other had a bit of a lopsided petal or two, and a few of the corners of the lily pad weren't the exact same size. The creases weren't the best, either...

But Winry was smiling so widely with pride, he couldn't help but find it adorable.

"Isn't it great? I'll be sure to practice to make one as pretty as hers! Here, would you like one?" Winry asked shyly, holding the perfect one out to him.

Ed frowned, glancing at the one in her other hand. He didn't know what possessed him to ask... but he said, "Mind if I keep the other one?"

Winry seemed surprised, and looked at the imperfect one curiously. "This one?" She asked, glancing up at him confusedly.

Ed looked away and mumbled defensively, "So you can use the other one for a reference as you're practicing." He held his gloved hand out for it, finding the cobble beneath them highly interesting all of a sudden...

Confused but delighted by his request, Winry giggled and put the paper lily delicately in his palm. The world continued around them, shoppers and commuters filing past them without taking notice. The smiling girl and embarrassed young man went overlooked by the rest of society that flowed past them without pause. The development that had just taken place...went unseen. Unobserved. Missed.

AN: I'm feeling a bit nostalgic right about now. I went ahead and wrote the epilogue out for this story. This story shall have an end! Someday... I tend to do that; write scenes out ahead of time so I don't forget them. That way I can stay focused and put the scenes in later.

But the epilogue had me emotional. It reminded me of where I plan to have this story end up... And it makes me sad! D: It's gonna end! It's so easy to forget in these early stages. (Yes, chapter 11 and I'm still in the early stages. I need to get this stupid thing moving) It's going to have an ending and I'm not going to get any more ideas for scenes anymore and I'm not going to post any more chapters and I'm not going to have anyone subscribing anymore and -! It makes me sad! I feel like it's already over, just because I wrote the end already... D:

So yes... I'm really, truly, horribly sorry about all this. It took entirely too long. But my muse – not just my muse for this, but my muse for writing in general – just up and vanished! I just kept drawing and reading, I completely put this off! It's truly unforgivable... And I'm terribly sorry.

If there are any of my old readers left... Thank you for coming back. And you have my sincerest apologies. I do not intend to let this story die.

With much regret,

Rain

P.S. Please note, that around this time I believe that 1 pound is equivalent to around 4.85 US dollars, and 100 pence make up 1 pound. Rain's still doing her homework.