"I don't understand..." Lan Fan whispers to her lap breathlessly. "This says he has found a Philosopher's Stone for our country but... where is he?" She looks up to Iris, whom she trusts the most out of them all. "Please, tell me the truth."
"He's been... busy. His body was taken over by a homunculus, and now he's trapped inside. We're not yet sure how to get him out of there..." The servant's worried eyes strike right through the alchemist's heart strings. She should have never let this happen to Ling.
"I'm sorry." Iris tries her best to be comforting, putting a hand on her over the plain blanket she was given from Dr. Knox. "I keep messing up. I get you injured, no, dismembered by the Fuhrer of a country you should have no consequences from, then I can't even take care of your master for you as redemption. I promise we will get Ling back. I just need to figure out how."
There is no trace of resentment against her friend in the warrior's eyes, just sadness and fear.
"You should rest some more," Alphonse offers sweetly. She doesn't even argue. She simply lies back down and stares at the ceiling, silent. They leave her in the room alone.
"This is all my fault." Iris leans her back on the door, sighing heavily. The brothers look at her pitifully. "What am I going to do?"
"I don't know," Ed answers truthfully. "I think I'm going to take a walk."
"Can I come with you?"
"Um, sure."
"I can stay here with Dr. Knox," Al suggests.
"Thank you, Al."
The buzz Central's population has by now felt welcoming to Iris. People pass by and glance at the two State Alchemists walking side by side on the sidewalk. Iris smiles at them all, feeling their memories enter and leave her head like a train station; coming and going, going and coming.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you I talked to your father in Resembool," she apologizes suddenly. Ed looks disgruntled.
"Hohenheim? 'S fine, Iris."
"He's got... He's got souls inside him. Like the other homunculi do."
The alchemist stops. "You're telling me my father is a homunculus?"
"No, that's not what I'm saying. His souls, those ones are tame. They simply float. They don't squirm or swim around inside him. It's like they're... content, in a messed-up way. What I'm trying to get through to you is that you should, I don't know... make amends."
Ed's eyes fill with fire as he grimaces at her. "No way. He left me and Al! And my mom! She was dying, and the bastard didn't even bother to show up to the funeral."
"What about what your mother wanted to say to him? 'I'm sorry, but I'm dying first.'?"
"Oh, I'll tell him that once I see him. Right after I clock him in the face." He begins to walk again, taking strides. Iris jogs to catch up.
"It was just a suggestion," she mutters. "I don't think he's a bad guy at all."
"Great, he's fooled you just like he fooled my mom."
She rolls her eyes.
"Sorry for bringing it up then. But I do have to tell you something. I meant to tell Alphonse too, I just forgot."
"What is it?"
She twiddles her thumbs. "I've been re-adopted... by the royal family." Saying it out loud physically hurt. It finally made it real to her. She went over and sat on a community bench. Ed sits beside her.
"You mean King Bradley?! But what about Mustang? Isn't he your brother? Didn't he adopt you?"
"He's my brother and he has rights for me to be under his residence, yes, but Chris Mustang is my foster mother, and they said they have no documents to prove that I was adopted back in 1911. It's the Fuhrer, Ed. I can't get out of this one. Legally, anyway.
"Look, I don't know what that means for me yet, but I can't imagine it'll be good."
Edward can't think of anything to say for comfort except, "Just... Be careful, alright?"
Iris nods her head.
"His son and wife don't know. I don't know how I can tell them, or if I even should. But I'll do my best to keep them safe. They're innocent, after all."
"Alchemy be thou for the people," Edward mutters cryptically. "Who knew it could be used to produce such a tragedy for this entire country."
"And it's citizens," she adds darkly.
The blond gets up and offers an automail hand to help his friend up. "We should head back."
"Yeah."
•••
Iris checks her pocket watch for the time.
'Dinnerisat7.Don'tbelate.'
"I have to go," she whispers, then looks up from her watch to see Ed's pitying expression. Al pats her shoulder in support. She smiles up at him half-heartedly.
"I'll see you two later, don't worry."
She waves goodbye to Dr. Knox, who just huffs and looks away, glad to be ridden one guest for the moment.
Once out the door, Iris scrutinizes her outfit for the millionth time, worried. She retained most of her outfit from earlier, her only changes being a forest green overcoat and switching to black ankle boots. Was it appropriate enough? She just didn't know.
This was fairly new territory for her. A family dinner? She can't remember the last time she had a sit-down family dinner. She had a dinner celebration at Madame Christmas's bar with her, her girls, and Roy when she was first adopted, but that was nowhere near as fancy as the royal family. And with her real family, she can't recall a single time they had dinner together, or even if they had dinner often. Her tiny hometown of Augustine was by no means even middle class. It was almost comical; right now her nerves of having dinner with a new family outweighed the fact that she would be living with a homunculus for who knows how long.
She didn't bother any car service; she'd rather walk and let the fresh air calm her down. Once she got there, every servant and officer was already notified of her new position. Technically, she was now a princess. The thought, for some reason, made her shiver.
The house was lavish and Iris expected nothing less. The fancy wallpaper, the spiraling stairs, the marble floor, the scent of vanilla... It was giving her a headache already. She felt something creep around her - the familiar feeling of a homunculus. Wrath was here. She already knew this, so she did her best to keep her composure and smile.
A rather friendly guard led her to the salon, and she got her first sight of one of her new family members: Mrs. Bradley.
Iris had no doubt this woman was sweet. She was just too sweet for her own good, and it was going to kill her.
"I'm enthralled you're here," she says, smiling a wonderful smile. She opens her arms as an invitation for a hug, and Iris can't resist. Literally can't, for the woman has already closed the gap between them. She awkwardly pats back. When they pull away, a pitiful smile graces her slowly aging face.
"I can't imagine how hard this must be for you," she clasps her hands together, "Child abuse is traumatic to experience." She perks up again. "But no matter! I promise, neither I nor my husband shall ever treat you like that. You're a part of our beautiful family. Now, let's get settled and eat dinner, shall we?"
Mrs. Bradley walks away into the dining room, leaving Iris stunned, and absolutely furious.
"Excuse me?" She says with no one to hear her.
'That'sBradley'sstory?ThatIwasabusedsoIbecamere-adopted?Whatanass!'
She heaves a sigh of frustration.'Coolit,' she hears her step-brother Roy's voice in her head ironically. 'Playnice.'Recomposing herself, she follows into the dining area...
And that's when she feels it. The weight on her mind, her soul. Yet another homunculus is inside this house.
Her voice is a whisper. "Oh, fuck."
She desperately hopes that no one saw her face drop as she entered and looked across the room. King Bradley wasn't present yet. No, the evil was radiating from a little boy sitting at the head of the table. A little boy she knew to be King Bradley's very own son. Or, should she now think, 'accomplice'? Her heart sinks to the floor.
Mrs. Bradley sets a bowl of food down and turns to her. "Did you say something, dear?"
Iris snaps back to life. "No ma'am! Uh, nothing at all. May I take a seat?"
"Of course. Selim, please return to your own seat," she directs. The boy pouts.
"But I like daddy's chair!" he whines but removes himself nonetheless. He takes a seat next to Iris. She tries not to show how uncomfortable she feels outwardly. Thousands of thoughts race through her brain, which is already feeding off the vibes of this house and this family's past. She's starting to think the vanilla scents and other fancy settings weren't the cause of her growing headache.
'SelimBradleyisahomunculus
'Two-thirdsofthisfamilyisalie
'DoesMrs.Bradleyknow?Issheevilaswell?
'Homunculican'treproduce...orcanthey?
'MaybeSelimisinnocent
'Itcan'tbe.'
She's pulled out of her thoughts quite literally as Selim tugs on her jacket.
"Are we siblings now?" he whispers innocently, curious eyes bugging out of his head. Iris has to admit, she'd believe anything this kid said if she didn't know any better. He has had his practice in trickery, that's for sure.
"I-I think so."
In a gentlemanly manner, he offers his tiny hand to her. She takes it and they shake. His hand is noticeably cold, lifeless. She doesn't let it bother her. On the outside, anyway.
"I'm Selim."
"I know who you are," Iris says, trying not to let the disgust leak out of her words.
'Trustme,Iknow.'
"You're famous, Selim," she smiles. "You're the son of the Fuhrer; I couldn't think of a soul who doesn't know you and isn't completely enamored by you.
"I'm Iris King. It's nice to meet you."
The boy smiles, just a bit too tight. The alchemist doesn't comment on it.
Mrs. Bradley sits down as well, explaining a bit sheepishly that her husband is always late from suchabusyjob, and to pardon him.
"Of course."
Small talk ensues, but not for long. Before the front door is even open, she knows he has arrived. The nothingness and everything of the souls in their systems all at once attacks her, it weighing twice its size now cornered by two of them in one house. The anxiety is killing her, but she has to make it through dinner.
Fuhrer Bradley says the same as his wife; 'Excusemytardiness,let'seat,blahblah.'It's all fake, and Iris knows it.
Surprisingly, the dinner is bearable by normal standards. Small talk, congratulations of adoption for the newest member of the family, a damn-good dessert, then it's over.
After, she receives a tour of the enormous house.
"I wanted something more quaint, but my husband just insisted for all of this. Servants, maids, the whole shebang. Sometimes it is quite nice, but other times I cannot help but feel as if it's too much," Mrs. Bradley had confessed to her. This stood out. She admired her humble statement and truly hoped it was a genuine one.
With so many rooms, Iris got her pick of the litter. She chose one closest to Selim; she convinced herself it was the 'keep your enemies closer' strategy, but strongly hoped it wouldn't end up biting her in the ass. She wanted to pick his homunculus-brain, and hoped he was unaware of her powers.
"We won't ask you to stay here all the time. You are a growing girl, after all, not to mention a state alchemist. When it comes to the military, this family knows firsthand how busy one can become. We just ask that you don't become a stranger who will be living with us, but a family member we will come to love and be loved in return." The queen's smile is so endearing that she can't help but smile back and agree.
"Thank you so much."
"I'll stop pestering you for now," she chuckles then leaves, closing the door behind her.
Iris collapses onto the bed once she's finally alone. She had meant to write of her discoveries in her journal, but her eyes betray her and she succumbs to sleep.
•••
The alchemist wakes up to an unidentifiable nightmare. Sweat sticks to her forehead and her palms. She checks her state watch.
1:42 AM
She groans then gets up. She digs in the dark into her suitcase for her matches. After found, she slides it against the sandpaper then lights the candle that was on her nightstand. She holds it up by the handle.
Iris closes the bedroom door quietly behind her. The hallway is frightening, even with her light source. She sees only her shadow, but it's still unnerving. She walks towards the only place she remembered from the tour: the Bradleys' personal library.
The doors are heavy but thankfully not loud. She enters quickly before they shut on her. Again, she swears she sees something different than her own shadow.
Iris carefully navigates through the towering bookshelves, quickly finding herself lost in the magnificent books. She rubs the spine of one delicately, but then feels some wind behind her. She turns and there's a shadow. Then, it's just Selim. A wonder of which deadly sin he could be flicks through her head, but she quickly composes herself.
"You scared me!" she whisper-yelled, feigning a big smile. "It's late. What are you doing here?"
"I heard you shuffling around," he said sleepily, rubbing an eye. "What are you doing?"
She feels embarrassed. "I couldn't sleep."
There's a silence that Iris finds uncomfortably comfortable. She reminds herself to always have her guard up.
'SelimBradleyisnotjustaninnocentchild.'
But hell, does he put on an act.
"Mother will be disappointed if she finds us," he realizes quietly.
"I suppose Mrs. Bradley will, yes."
"Why don't you call her mother?"
Iris is taken aback by the question. She stammers out, "I-I'm sure neither of us is comfortable with that."
"Maybe not yet," he adds. "But you're adopted, just like me. She is your mother."
Iris holds a shudder under her breath. She puts on an uneasy smile and rubs Selim's hair. (It feels strange having a homunculus right under her palm.)
"I think we both should head back to bed."
"Okay, Iris."
2:13 AM
The troubled alchemist falls asleep once again, but this time, her dreams are plagued with her family.
Her mother, hanging from a tree out of her own volition. Her father, blown to hell by the war. Her sister, transformed into a homunculus. And now, her new adopted brother, Selim Bradley, the same.
