A/N: A huge shout-out and thanks to Glaringcashew for all of her help on this!
Enjoy!
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Aftermath of War
Chapter Eight: How to Tame a Mustang
Chapter Summary: This is not the instruction book you thought it would be.
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Songs of inspiration: (In no specific order) "Phoenix" by Cailin Russo, Chrissy Costanza, and League of Legends, "Welcome to Your Wedding Day" by The Airborne Toxic Event, "Who Needs Sleep?" by The Barenaked Ladies
Quote: "Man has the advantage of choice, woman only the power of refusal. ~Henry Tilney (Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen)
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(Picking up directly from where we left off last chapter)
The tension around them was heavy, as if the very air particles might materialize and start falling on their heads like giant raindrops.
How? When did he figure it out? He wasn't supposed to win. Nobody but Al ever beat her.
(A homunculus-possessed Ling didn't count).
It was Ling that brought her out of her dazed thoughts, still next to her brother in the Master of Ceremony's podium, close enough to be heard in the sparring ring. He was laughing so hard, tears streamed down his face, and he was almost doubled-over.
Al looked mildly concerned and asked, "Are you okay, your Eminence?" It was so weird hearing Al address Ling as anything other than his given name.
It took him a few moments to compose himself.
"Sorry. Sorry," he giggled, straightening up. He looked at Evie who glared back with murderous intent, though it was lost by the covering of her hood.
Ling continued, "That's one way to tame a mustang." He tilted his head in thought – "though you didn't do much taming, did you Fullmetal?"
Her face was so hot she was afraid the sun would decide to take a vacation and let her heat the Earth for it. She leaped up in one motion, as if there a spring under her ass propelled her. She would kill him.
Right now.
A weight on her shoulder made her see through the blinding rage of embarrassment. She looked up at Mustang, expecting to see that hated (oh-so-loved) smirk.
He was looking at something else entirely.
She followed his line of sight to the Zeminite King whose rage was barely hidden under a sleek veneer of calm. But Evie could feel it even if no one else but Al could. She wondered if Mustang was able to as well.
The king stepped up next to Al, shoving her brother out of the way, making several people near the tent gasp. Furey, Winry, and Mustang's team all stood and slowly made their way through the stands.
"One might have expected some sort of coup such as this," the king said all slimy and venomous.
Evie scoffed, feeling a shiver go down her spine when Mustang whispered, "Quiet," and patted her shoulder. He stepped in front of her and raised his voice, saying smoothly, "One might question your definition of 'coup'.
"Excuse me?" The other man said in disbelief.
Mustang tilted his head as if deep in thought, but Evie knew he was really just toying with the king. It had been a long time since she'd last seen him do something like this. She had forgotten how much she enjoyed it.
"There isn't any violent takeover of government, and as per the rules of the match, so it doesn't matter if I win or not. The decision is Fullmetal's to make."
The king's eyes narrowed but he didn't have an argument. He went back to his seat while Al stepped up to the podium. Evie didn't like that he conceded so easily. She watched as the Owl fell into a deep conversation with Rinam and Oraine.
"Well, that was – interesting," Al said, bringing her attention back to the events at hand. She could just imagine the mocking laughter dancing in his eyes.
Oh. She was going to get both him and Mustang. The latter tricked her anyway. How dare he make her look like a fool in front of all of these people? How was she supposed to keep her reputation if the idiot Flame Alchemist could take her down so quickly?
Dirty cheat.
Her eyes darted to said dirty cheat's sweaty chest and then quickly away.
Dirty swindler he may be, but he knew who she was and made sure she knew he was okay with marrying her anyway.
Even if it was for political reasons, she still felt some small relief lift from her shoulders. At the very least, if he never loved her, he was someone she trusted with the whole of her being.
With those thoughts in mind, she took a deep breath, pushed herself passed General Asshat, making sure he saw her glower. She then went over to where Al stood at the podium.
He handed her the scroll from earlier. Taking out a pen she'd hidden in her cloak, she opened the scroll, pulled the second page from it, and circled the name of her chosen consort. Al did a magnificent job not rolling his eyes as she handed the rolled-up item back to him.
The whole process took maybe a minute. But it was important for the dignitaries to see her go through the motions so that everything seemed fair. She supposed it was all more equitable now that Mustang had won on his own terms.
She didn't wait around for the announcement to be made or the certain fallout from Oraine and King Dimshit.
She still had things to do.
More surprises to dole out.
Responsibilities to get to.
A wedding to get ready for – she pushed that thought away.
Maybe a quick twenty-year nap was in order before the tying of nuptials.
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Roy watched as Fullmetal bolted from the Master of Ceremonies' tent. He hadn't known what exactly to expect when he named her by title, but her startled surprise was hilarious.
It wasn't often one could so wholly shock the Fullmetal Alchemist. He prided himself to still be one of the few who could.
Al was shaking his head, grinning after his sister. The mischievous look he shot Roy left the general wondering if he should be worried.
(What a stupid thing to think. Of course, he she be worried. It's Ed and Al).
"I know some of you are wondering about the wedding décor being set up a day early over by the cliffs," Al said, gesturing in that direction.
"Who's the winner, your Grace?" Someone shouted from the crowd before he could continue. Several others started heckling as well, though it was all lighthearted.
The ambassador laughed. "Always so impatient. You guys are almost as bad as the princess. You didn't even let me finish."
The people only looked slightly abashed though they were laughing too.
"As many of you know - "Was all Roy heard before Lucricia jumped into the ring and dragged him away.
He spluttered and huffed trying to tug his own wrist out of her grip. Truth she was strong. It wasn't until he pointed out that he could walk on his own that she let go.
She gave him a sheepish smile and said "Sorry. But we must 'urry, hamat 'ukhraa" and then rushed him toward a group of tents near the cliffs. As they got nearer, he saw two of them were larger than the others and at opposite ends of campsite. They were set up near the wedding arch and guest seating.
Lucricia ushered him into one of the larger tents and told him to wait. It was spacious and several chairs, a small couch, and some tables furnished the area. An opaque privacy screen with a garment bag hanging on it in one corner of the tent caught his attention. Not knowing how long he'd have to wait; he allowed his curiosity to get the better of him.
Upon opening the bag, he found an off-white silk frock coat that was embroidered with a gold thread pattern. There were at least ten gold buttons going up the front at an angle. The cuffs were appliqued in a deep red that went a quarter up the sleeve. There was one large, embroidered design in the same shape of the smaller patterns.
On closer inspection, he realized it was the New Xerxian symbol. Behind the coat was a pair of trousers and a long wrap-shawl of the same red on the sleeves. The wrap-shawl was embroidered with the gold pattern, though it was slightly bigger than the coat.
From an objective standpoint, they were beautiful clothes that he recognized as traditional Xerxian wedding garb he had seen in some of the paintings in the photo gallery. He also recognized these would fit him perfectly.
Wait.
He took in the interior of the tent again, now noticing a few small floral bouquets decorating the tables. A couple of ash trays on the smaller tables and a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket had been placed on the center coffee table.
Off to the other side was a large dressing desk with a mirror. A five-string necklace of pearl beads that would attach nicely to the frock coat hung from a necklace display. There were also several jewelry boxes just waiting to be opened.
Hanging the clothes back on the dressing screen, he went over to the desk and opened the boxes.
Golden cufflinks in the same size and shape as the buttons plus the New Xerxian symbol embellished on them shone brightly up at him.
The second box looked like it might hold a necklace, but when he opened it, there was nothing there. His hand went to the necklace still around his neck, and he wondered.
There were three other boxes, one of them small – an earring box? a ring box? (A feeling of nausea rose up in his stomach. He shoved it down. Hard). The other two boxes were deeper, and one of them looked as if it might be a hat box. All three were locked.
He turned as someone entered the tent and found himself face to face with a ghost from his past.
His eyes widened at the short-haired brunette woman that was once under his best friend's command. Roy hadn't seen her in over six years. The last time was when he had smuggled her out of Amestris. "Ross?" he whispered.
She smiled. "It's General Ross, now."
When he just stared, she gave a little laugh, and walked in further. "It's good to see you, Major General Mustang," she said reaching her hand out to shake his.
He pulled himself together and took her hand. "What are you doing here?"
"Aside from being the head of security for the New Xerxian forces?" She shrugged at his astonished look. "The princess…" she trailed off, lost in her thoughts. "Well… she doesn't trust easily."
Roy laughed agreeably. He knew that all too well. It still didn't tell him what was going on or why Ross was there. He glanced around the room again; she took the hint.
"I'm sure you already knew that you were chosen as consort before his highness even announced it?" Roy startled at Al's royal title.
It was so strange to hear it, let alone think about.
At his nod, General Ross continued, "Good. That's good. Because, your wedding is about to happen," she looked at her watch, "In about one hour."
It was as if he had been thrown into a blazing inferno that he didn't control. Shock was written all over his face as he took a step back from her, "What?"
"Yeah," she said sheepishly. "I can't tell you all the details, but the princess and prince are trying hard to prevent a usurpation of New Xerxes. The only way to do that is for the princess to get married as soon as possible.
His highness found a way around certain loopholes the regent was going to use against the princess, but Al – I mean, his highness - had to be married first. So, as soon as the emperor got here, his highness married the Xingese princess. It was all really fast. I don't know how much her highness knew before it all happened."
"Oh." It's not like he wasn't aware of the regent's scheming. His entire visit had been an exercise in watching Oraine plot.
Then he thought of Lucricia, the two brothers he had met earlier that day and how they seemed to be really looking forward to Al's wedding, little Mia who was excited about going out into the barrens after the wedding, and all the people who had come for the entertainments of the wedding and then the grand finale itself.
"Won't the people be disappointed that they won't get to see Al and Mei get married," because it was just too damn weird to call Al 'his highness'.
"They'll be compensated," was the succinct answer. But it didn't come from General Ross. The man who said it had a gravelly voice. He was older, with long white hair tied back in a ponytail. His beard was well kept and reminded Roy slightly of Hohenheim on the very brief occasion he had met the Elric patriarch. He was dressed in nice slacks and a long tunic that had a brooch with the New Xerxian phoenix on it.
With him was Roy's entire team (minus Hawkeye) along with Furey and Alphonse.
The elder man gave Roy a warm smile. "I apologize for just barging in. Her highness sent me away for 'annoying her with my presence'."
Havoc snorted.
"Of course she did," Furey sighed. Roy wondered if the younger man was as put upon by Ed as much as he made it out to be.
Al laughed and shook his head. "Just be glad that's all she did. If you weren't so important, she might've said something worse."
"Or done something worse," Roy heard Furey mutter. Though he didn't have any expression on his face when Roy glanced at him.
The elder grimaced but agreed.
"General," Al said genially, turning to Roy. "As you already know, the sparring match was more ruse than anything to hopefully stall any plans the Zeminite king and Lady Oraine might have set into motion.
I've also been informed that my sister has already asked for your hand, and by your participation in the sparring match, and subsequent winning against the Fullmetal Alchemist, you've given her an affirmative answer."
Well, when put like that... Not that Roy was denying it, but he still had questions about this whole charade, Ed's way of proposing, and why everything was so Truth-damned rushed. He knew what Ross had told him, but he wanted to understand the laws they were trying to get around.
"With all of this, I would like to formally welcome you into the New Xerxian royal family as not only my sister's consort prince, but also my brother-in-law," Al continued.
He surprised the older man by kissing him on the cheek. Then patting him on the shoulder, he said sincerely, "Thank you. There isn't anyone else I could or would entrust her with."
Roy was touched by the sentiment but felt the weight of the expectations slowly descend upon his shoulders. He didn't have time to dwell on it before he was told to get dressed in the frock coat and slacks he'd been admiring.
The other men took various seats throughout the tent and waited for him while Al and the elder who'd been introduced as the New Xerxian high priest took their leave. Before going, Al told Roy he could feel free to put on whatever jewelry he found on the dressing table and handed Furey a small key.
After that, everything felt like an out-of-body experience. The nausea he felt when he first looked at the jewelry sat at the edges of his stomach like some lurking monster in the dark threatening to attack, allowing its presence be known at the most random and inconvenient of times.
Such as when he was putting the clothes on and found that they didn't just look like they were his size, but they had been tailored to fit him perfectly.
When he asked Furey about it, he was told, "Of course we know your size. Even if it wasn't for the laundry servants in the palace, I'd been the grunt of the team long enough to know all of your sizes." He took in the men sitting around the tent and added, "except him," and gestured at Tilman.
Right. That made sense, even if it didn't make the feeling of trespass go away or stop the bile from roiling around in his stomach.
He took a deep breath. He really just wanted fresh air. It was stuffy in here.
Once dressed, Furey took the small box of cufflinks Tilman and Breda had been examining, ignoring Roy's protests of "I can attach them myself," proceeded to fasten them on.
Havoc was looking through the other jewelry boxes and picked up the smaller of the locked boxes. "What's in this one?"
Furey took it from his hand, plopping it succinctly back down on the table. "She'll give that to you later," he muttered cryptically.
Roy couldn't help but notice his former underling's agitation but also didn't know how to address it. If Kain had still been his soldier, Roy would just order the information from him. But Kain no longer worked for the Amestris government. Roy gave the younger man an inquiring look and was rewarded with a small smile and a shake of the head.
"It's nothing, General." Furey let out a small laugh on top of a sigh as he picked up the larger locked box. Using the key Al gave him, he unlocked it revealing a gold crown. The other men stopped talking as Furey took the head ornament from its container. They were awestruck in the simplicity of it.
More simple in style than what Roy had seen in other monarchial countries, it was made with intricately laced gold and studded with a pearl drop ruby at each alternating point. A larger sapphire on the band sat directly under them. The most interesting part of the design were the silver renditions of a phoenix set at every other peak with black infinity alchemy symbols under each one. On the biggest, most center peak was the New Xerxian phoenix holding the largest ruby between the tips of his wings, above his head and the tail hanging down in the shape of infinity.
This. This was the symbol of the most prestigious power in the desert between Amestris and Xing – a mere principality it may be – but anyone would recognize the power within this crown alone.
It was Havoc who broke the silence in a breathy whisper, "You're about to be a Prince, Boss."
Yes. Yes, he was.
He was also going to be sick.
He needed that air.
Ignoring the wide-eyed stares of his men, he shoved himself through the front tent flap and around to the side where he bent over and took in large heaving, hacking breaths, all the while berating himself. His lungs felt like they were going to close up on him and the world was spinning away.
It was the second time that day he found himself going into a panic attack.
The last time he'd gone into multiple panic attacks in a twenty-four-hour span was when he had been ordered to commit mass genocide on an innocent nation.
But to compare his own wedding to war-crimes didn't make sense. He couldn't understand why he was freaking out so much. Just that morning he was excited to find out that Ed was the princess and she wanted to marry him – even if for political reasons only. And now, here he was getting ill from the very idea.
He really wished Maes was here right now. Roy would give almost anything to have his slightly manic friend here, shoving pictures of Elycia into his face. Maybe it was the thought that his best friend would never be able to stand up with him at the end of that wedding pathway and mock him for hiding his feelings for one foul-tempered alchemist that had him calming down.
Or maybe it was the thought of his best friend telling him that that foul-tempered alchemist was probably going through similar thoughts and emotions that made him able to catch his breath.
Either way, he was able to finally focus on something else.
He stood up slowly, his breathing ragged but steady. Lifting his arms above his head, he felt his lungs open and allowed extra air to circulate into them. He may be able to control the oxygen in the air around them to make fire, but he'd never try to mess with what was in the human body.
That struck too close to human transmutation for his liking. There were some lines he wasn't willing to cross – no matter what certain people might think.
Pulling himself together, he went back inside, only to be ushered out and down to the archway. Furey, carrying both the crown box and what Roy assumed was the ring box, led the way.
People had gathered around and into the seats while the dignitaries had special seating on the side up in front. Ling, Yenay, and Mei, along with Winry and her grandmother sat in the family seats for the bride. While not family to Ed in blood, Roy was glad that she at least had her in-laws and adopted family there for her. It brought the stark realization that his own aunt and sisters would not be here. He wondered if he could convince his bride to have a smaller ceremony later.
Wow. He was getting sentimental in his old age.
Havoc made a beeline for Hawkeye who was sitting with Gracia and Elycia on the groom's side in the second row; Tilman and Breda followed behind him good naturedly.
Roy stopped short when he came upon the first row. There, sitting in the mother's seat was his aunt, and next to her two of his twelve sisters.
Chris Mustang stood, a genuine smile on her face, and enveloped him in a hug. "Did you think I would miss my boy's wedding?" She asked pulling back just a little bit.
He blinked his eyes repeatedly to push the sand out that had just blown into them.
"It's going to be okay Roy," she whispered, hugging him again.
He felt like he was a child again, right after his parents had been killed in the attack on his small town, and he'd had no idea how to process any of it. He was sure his eyes were wide with the same kind of panic as they were then.
"What? How?" He mumbled.
"The Fuhrer is more conniving than we give him credit for. And your fiancée's brother can make a rather convincing argument" she answered cryptically, pulling back a second time and letting go. She smiled at him again and patted his shoulder, "You should get up there."
"Right." he took a deep breath, nodded to his smiling sisters, steadied his nerves, and walked to the alter where Al, the New Xerxian High Priest, and an elder Ishvalan woman, who he vaguely recognized, stood.
"You doing alright, General?" Al asked the slightly pale man.
Roy gestured at his aunt and sisters repeating his earlier "how?" and "why?" questions.
"Ah." The younger man gave him a sheepish grin and shrugged.
The High Priest answered with a chuckle, "his highness wanted to make sure you weren't without family for such an auspicious day."
"How thoughtful of him," Roy murmured.
The Ishvalan Elder glared but said nothing.
He didn't even wonder what that was about. He knew what was fresh in her memories, and how big a part he had played. (They didn't call him the "Hero of Ishval" for nothing. He hated that name). Roy wasn't anymore thrilled with those thoughts than she was. But if she was so against him marrying Ed, why was she here?
He wanted to ask. It was on the tip of his tongue as the awkward silence descended between them while Al spoke with the High Priest. But any thoughts were wiped from his mind as Ed stepped onto the runner and into his view.
There had been no indication she was on her way to the wedding arch - no music like what they would have in Amestris. There was the mild buzz of talking in the air, then people silenced themselves and stood. He didn't even realize that the High Priest and Ishvalan Elder stepped back, leaving Al standing next to him.
He only saw her.
She wore a white, long-sleeved, midriff shirt with a red vest that had gold thread around the edges with small golden tassels that hung down from the bottom edge. The sleeves of her shirt puffed out a bit just below her elbow and were embroidered around the edge in lines with matching phoenix emblems that went down to her wrist.
Her skirt was asymmetrical – he was pretty certain he'd heard one of his dates call it high-low – with the front higher, above her knees with a long train in the back. It looked as if it were made from long white silk feathers; on each tip was a small, embroidered gold phoenix. A wide red tassel belt hung around her waist. Like everything else, it too was embroidered with the principality's symbol.
A large three rubied kamarband hung over her stomach and down over her hips and thighs. The top ruby hung between her vest and shirt; the middle just in the center of her stomach, above her naval button; the third, largest ruby at the center of her waist. Thin, gold chains attached to each ruby hanging down in a type of 'u' formation, drawing the eye away from the visible skin.
Her long-hair was mostly down, hanging to her waist, only pulled back from her face and into braids that made a small wreath around her head. A chain tiara with sapphires hanging from small points on the sides of it and the New Xerxian phoenix hanging down between her eyes offset her braided wreath, making it look more ornate than it was.
She looked ethereal with the evening sun's golden-orange rays glowing around her.
There was no smile on her face, and her eyes kept darting to her brother instead of on him.
That hurt his ego.
Once she reached the alter, the air seemed to settle around them as the ceremony began. He knew a tiny bit of Ishvalan ceremony and absolutely none of the New Xerxian ways, so he wasn't able to really tell which was what. However, he did know that he didn't recognize any of the language being used.
Al said something in a completely different language than that of what he was previously using – a language Roy had never heard before.
He then found himself kneeling in front of the young prince who tapped him on the shoulders with the ceremonial sword. Once done, Roy was told to rise and face his soon-to-be-bride who was looking almost green.
Wrestling Ed's reluctant hands into Roy's waiting ones, Al tied a red, silk cord around their joined palms. Roy was happy that they were including an Amestrian tradition. But he also wondered with a small smirk, how much of it was to keep Ed from ripping her hands away.
It appeared that the cold feet he experienced earlier was even worse for her.
Al shot his sister a warning look before looking at Roy and saying, "With the blessings of the High Priestess of Ishval, the High Priest of New Xerxes, and the Fuhrer of Amestris; I, Prince Alphonse Von Hohenheim Elric of New Xerxes give to you, Major General Roy Mustang; the hand of New Xerxes' High Princess, Evelyn Von Hohenheim Elric along with all of the responsibilities and powers of protection of the position of High Prince and Consort – though not to exceed the power of the station of the High Princess. Do you accept this naming of station and the hand of our princess?"
Roy nodded his assent even as his stomach flipped. His whispered, "I do" seemed to be enough for Al, who then turned to his sister.
If she hadn't been standing right in front of Roy, he probably wouldn't have seen the grimace that crossed her face.
Al gave her a commiserating smile and said, "With the blessings of the High Priestess of Ishval, the High Priest of New Xerxes, and the Fuhrer of Amestris; I Prince Alphonse Von Hohenheim Elric of New Xerxes give to you, Evelyn Von Hohenheim Elric; High Princess of New Xerxes, the hand of Major General Roy Mustang of Amestris along with all of the responsibilities and powers of the New Xerxian High Princess. Do you accept this naming of station and the hand of your chosen consort?"
For the first time since she came to stand in front of him, Ed looked at him. Gone was the stark determination from that morning and the sparring match that afternoon; in its place was a vulnerability that Roy didn't think he'd ever seen on her before. He realized that she was genuinely uncertain of this arrangement.
But what was there to be so uncertain of? She'd gone to great lengths to get him to agree with the marriage - even before he knew she was the princess. Did she really believe he'd leave her to the likes of the Zeminites and Oraines of the world? Not that he knew entirely what was going on, but she had to know that he would always have her back. No matter what it was.
With a blink, the emotion disappeared as if it hadn't been there, and in a strong voice that carried over the crowd, and belied the green tint still hanging on her skin, she replied to her brother's query.
"Of course, I do."
There was an upheaval in the crowd near them where the dignitaries were seated, and Ed swung around to look at what was going on. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and Roy turned to see what it was that was disrupting the ceremony.
The crow woman stood near those notable people, her eyes fixated on the Zeminite king and Prince Rinam. Her ravens and crows surrounded the ground behind and next to them.
When did she show up?
Many of the guests were looking that way as well, but it was the lone crow circling the air above them that really had Roy's attention.
Was that the same crow that had been following Ed all morning?
Al cleared his throat and Roy turned back to Ed who was still watching the elder. "Sister!" Al hissed, getting her attention. He glanced at the commotion, "We'll figure it out later."
Roy wondered, only half-sarcastically, if this was an omen of things to come in his newly wedded bliss.
In his normal voice, Al continued the ceremony. He held his hands above the corded knot around their joined hands and said something in that third language Roy didn't recognize. The High Priest and High Priestess closed their eyes as if in a prayer. Roy was shocked to see Ed doing so as well.
Since when did she find religion?
He'd always known her to be an atheist, even after meeting a god several times and punching another one in the face.
A glowing blue and gold hue encircled the knot before fading slightly - what type of alchemy was this? What did Al just say? – leaving a warm tingling feeling in his wrists and traveling up through his arm and into his heart. He felt lighter somehow, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders - if only for a moment. He hadn't realized that he too had closed his eyes, but when he opened them, he found Ed staring at him, her golden irises somehow more intense; the red flecks that looked more like flames danced around her pupil.
He felt oddly content.
Ed broke eye contact first, looking down at the cord. He realized it had loosened from around their wrists and was simply hovering above them making it so they could pull their hands out without even touching it while it stayed in place.
Roy had never seen anything like it.
"I didn't know if it would actually work," Al muttered in wonder. "You know what this means, don't you, sister?" he added with a mischievous grin and seemingly forgetting everyone else around them.
Ed scowled. "Shut it, Al."
The younger man's grin only widened, but he stopped teasing her and said to Roy, "Welcome to the royal family of New Xerxes, General. If you would please exchange the jewelry."
Wait. What jewelry? He didn't have a ring for her. He was thrown into this without any warning. He was going to look like a fool in front of all of these people.
Before he could panic too much, Ed reached down to one of the hanging ends of the still hovering cord and untied a ring from it. Upon closer inspection, he found a second ring was also tied to the other hanging end.
Her raised eyebrow and slightly crooked smile told him that his mild panic-attack had not gone unnoticed. He glared at her; she smiled more.
Well. At least the green tint was almost gone from her skin.
Once the rings were exchanged, and the vows said, he found himself kneeling again, only this time in front of his new wife as she placed the High Prince's crown on his head.
Her voice was strong as she said, "You kneel before me as a simple general from Amestris," he wanted to scoff at the 'simple general.' There was nothing simple about his job, and he knew she knew this. "Now rise, as the phoenix does from its own ashes, and take the place of my High Prince Consort and one of the Monarchs of this land. Help me lead our people in the path of justice, wisdom, and grace."
As he stood, he felt goosebumps rise on the back of his neck. She surprised him by grasping his shoulders and forcing him to bend down just enough to kiss him on the forehead.
He didn't have time to process what was happening before she was releasing him and stepping back. All while looking like she wished the ground would swallow her whole.
Al took the still-hovering knot gently into his hands and told Ed and Roy to hold their hands palm up. When they did, he placed the knot into both of their palms and said, "I now give to each of you your *buanchara. Cherish one another forever. Be strong together and face whatever adversities may come your way with the other in your heart always.
Roy didn't know what a buanchara was, but the flush on Ed's cheeks from the earlier forehead kiss intensified at the word.
"Honored guests," Al raised a hand to the dignitaries who now had a light fog circling around them – though there didn't seem to be any electrical charges. (Roy didn't even know why he was surprised at the Elric siblings' lack of response to such things. He'd read enough of Ed's shoddy and bizarre reports to know they'd dealt with much stranger things before, and he'd seen the same fog that very morning). "Friends from Ishval," Al nodded to the High Priestess with the white hair and then turned to face the crowd of New Xerxians and Ishvalans, "Citizens of New Xerxes. I would like to thank you all for coming to this *ceangal anam chorónú, the first to ever be held," he added the last part as an aside that only Roy and Ed heard. "I am happy to present to you, your princess, her royal highness, High Princess Evelyn Von Hohenheim Elric and her prince consort, High Prince Roy Mustang-Von Hohenheim Elric."
Roy didn't even question the added names to his own.
They faced the cheering crowd and began walking down the runner towards the tents. He didn't miss the crow following in the air.
Behind them, Al was telling everyone that while the royal family would be retiring to the palace for the day, the guests and citizens should continue enjoying the festival.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -* Roy/Evie *- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Roy sat on his bed staring in a kind of fixated wonder at the new addition to his finger. Exhaustion wrapped its sluggish arms around him making his eyes droop and his limbs feel heavy even as his mind worked through the thoughts flying through his head.
He wanted to lay back onto the inviting mattress – was so very tempted to do so; it was only the threat of Ed – Evelyn – Oh, Truth, his wife - coming in here and dragging him up to go to whatever the next engagement was that stopped him.
She'd looked just as tired as he felt (though she tried to hide it) when she left him here with the stern warning to "change into something formal." He looked at her like she had a second head and then glanced at his own wedding attire. She added with a small sigh, "like your military dress or something. Idiot." Stepping back as if to turn away, she added, "do not go to sleep. Or else."
He'd given her a lascivious look at the "or else" and asked her what his punishment would be if he did fall asleep.
To her credit, she didn't even blush, just rolled her eyes and pushed him into his room with a "Be ready in fifteen minutes." He caught the added "asshole-pervert" muttered under her breath and grinned.
Huffing at his wayward thoughts, he stood, slowly changing into his formal military clothes. It was a rare occasion that he got to wear them, but he was glad to see that bringing the uniform had been a good idea. The style wasn't that different from what he was currently wearing - loose pants, a long, decorated coat, and a white shirt underneath. It was a darker blue, almost black, than that of the normal Amestrian uniform and had gold epaulets on the shoulders and his battle ribbons on the front. A gold rope hung down under his right arm, and a gold cummerbund went around his waist, over his shirt.
He idly wondered why he couldn't just wear the wedding clothes.
When Ed came to get him, he couldn't help but stare. She was a vision, and all she'd done was change from her skirt into a pair of white silk pants. The red belt was still wrapped around her waist; instead of being barefoot, she had on a pair of gold sandals with rubies holding the straps together.
He wanted to believe she found him just as attractive. Her eyes widened, but whether it was from his looks or just mere surprise was anyone's guess. Whatever it was, she hid it away behind her ever-present scowl.
Well – nothing new there.
He could hardly remember a time when she wasn't scowling at him. She surprised him when she moved to tuck something into the collar of his shirt.
Looking down, he realized he'd forgotten her necklace. "Do you want it back?" He murmured – almost whispered.
She didn't answer him right away, unbuttoning the top buttons of his coat and dress shirt. The actions were intimate. Innocent. And felt oddly right. He supposed that was a good thing, but also, she was moving in such a clinical way he had to wonder if she really felt as Ling and Furey had kept implying throughout the day.
"Ed," though not much louder than his question, even he heard the command in it, and she responded instantly. Stiffening, she looked up at him with narrowed eyes.
"What?"
"Am I the only man in the world that you ever wanted to marry?"
That – that was not what he was going to ask. The shock written across her face told him she had not expected it either.
No going back now. This is what they were talking about. Might as well see it through.
It was interesting to see the flush rising on her cheeks also went down her neck. He wondered how far it went then shook those thoughts away. Married or not, she wasn't ready for any of that.
Yet.
"Why would you ask that?" she demanded, not looking at him. She kept her attention soundly on his buttons and collar. He grabbed her hands to stop her fiddling.
"I just want to know why you went through all this trouble to guarantee it was me you married. In certain ways, it could be seen as entrapment."
"Oh. Is that what you think it was?"
He narrowed his eyes. No. No it wasn't. "I just need to know why you insisted it be me you married."
She sighed and looked at him. "I already told you that the princess trusts you the most out of all the idiots here. I'm the princess. Which you obviously figured out before the impromptu wedding," she l was almost pouting when she said that last bit – he found it oddly adorable; "and I know you're smart enough to put the rest together."
She didn't know about the wedding either. That was interesting, and also a little bit depressing.
"So none of this has anything to do with love?"
Her eyes flew to his face, searching it for only Truth knows what. He was well-versed in keeping a stoic façade; there was no way he was going to give away his cards this early in the game.
She gave a small hum and said, "What's love in a political marriage? You need the boost in power. I need a consort to be able to make my sovereign decisions. It's a win-win for both of us. Don't worry so much. If you need to go back to Amestris for anything, you can. I just need your name on the marriage documents. And look at the bright side; you won't even have to do any of that dreaded paperwork. It'll all fall to me."
He wasn't expecting the crushing feeling in his chest at her confirmation that it was all political – nothing else. It was like she clapped a hammer into existence – complete with all her gargoyle flair – and pummeled his heart into dust with one single hit. It destroyed him in ways he never imagined possible.
This. This was why he refused to put his heart out there.
Not realizing the damage she'd unwittingly done, she patted his chest and stepped away as a vibrating ripple went up through the castle walls and through the floors.
"What was – " he breathed, catching his balance and steadying Ed at the same time.
"Oh joy," she cut him off dryly. "They're starting.
And here I was hoping they would at least wait until we got some sleep." She sighed dramatically, pulling away from his arms. The she grabbed his forearm and dragged him from the room.
"Come on, Bastard. Let's go see what kind of party the Owl and his progeny have started."
He missed the feel of her up against him already It wasn't like he'd ever held her before, but Truth. It felt right anyway.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -* Roy/Evie *- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
End A/N: Please don't ask me how Irish and Celtic made it into the ceremony where everyone is dressed in Persian wedding clothes, and the New Xerxian/Ishvalan language relies heavily on Arabic linguistic roots. I have no idea. It just kind of happened. But Glaringcashew says I can do what I want, so there's that.
*ceangal anam chorónú: According to Google Translate – Irish for soul bind coronation
*buanchara: According to Google Translate – Irish for soul mate
Also, this:
Evie: * not giving two fucks about clothes and description * "Yeah. He was wearing a shirt, a pair of pants. Maybe a coat. Oh. And boots."
Glaringcashew: Isn't that how you're supposed to describe clothes?
Roy: * who likes sophisticated and pretty * "That chain around her stomach is not called a belly-chain! Why don't you people know this!?"
Me (the author): So… uh… I had to look up what the name of a belly-chain is just so Roy will stop yelling me to get it right. I would also like to point out that I fully expected a "high-low" skirt to be called something more complicated. I like to believe that some scientist crossed fields for a brief moment and named it.