AN: See, promises kept, please, please review if you are reading :D

Chapter 12 - Homecoming

Roy sighed as he sat down at his main office desk, "I got my reprimand."

Fullmetal looked up from his own table that he shared with Fuery who, aside from Riza, was their most efficient unit.

"Stop burning shit?" Fullmetal asked with a smirk.

Roy smiled, "Their phrasing was, 'stop incinerating evidence', but yes, that about covers it."

Riza leaned against the table, "Public opinion is both conspiratorial and positive. They seem to think Kimblee was the main source of the chaos and his being reimprisoned after a severe injury that prevents him from doing his form of alchemy seems to sit well with everyone. He's been blamed almost entirely for the whole event. And those who think positively of State Alchemists, finally have their answer of who would win, the Crimson Lotus or the Flame Alchemist."

"Yo, Boss," Havoc called to Edward, not Roy. "Why do you let him get all the credit?"

"Because my slate is clean," Fullmetal said. "The only thing I have to prove is that hiring child soldiers isn't unethical. Speaking of which—" He picked up a stack of papers he had apparently just finished sorting through and squared by rapping on the table before approaching Roy. " —I need you to sign these."

Roy accepted the papers, his brows raising as he saw the requests.

"None of these are slated to be contracted out, they're just on a waiting list," Ed explained.

Roy gave half the pile to Riza as he looked up at Ed, "You want me to send you out as a labourer?"

Fullmetal huffed, "None of that could take more than an hour or two."

"You have three-hundred assignments here," Riza said, flipping through them.

"Three-hundred and sixty-seven," Edward said.

"Why?" Roy asked.

"You want to be popular?" Fullmetal asked. "This will gain you more good will than catching a serial killer —who was hunting Alchemists to begin with."

Roy grimaced but argued, "But it will be you, not me who gains all that good favour."

Fullmetal shrugged, "But you'll be the one who sent me."

"He has a point," Riza said.

Roy sighed, he wasn't going to argue with Riza, not now that she had taken half of his closet. "Fine, but I don't understand why you would offer to do this."

"I'm more creative at getting out of paperwork than you are," Edward said, straightfaced.

Roy smirked, "Oh no, this might only take you a few hours for each fix, but you can do the post-paperwork for each."

Fullmetal gave him an unamused look, "No good deed, huh?"

Roy smirked, "I would hate to never see you in the office. You would be sorely missed."

"I hate you."

"You're really not the first to tell me that," Roy said cheerfully as he began signing off on Fullmetal's assignments.

All three-hundred and sixty-seven of them.

oOo

Ling was exhausted, and drinking from the water fountain didn't quite rejuvenate him.

He was never crossing that fucking desert again.

Not ever.

He let the Amestrian language sweep over him, the more he listened the more he got used to their accents. He kept his hand upturned, hoping someone would think him a beggar and give him money.

Hopefully not noticing the quality of the clothes he was wearing or the sword on his back. He kept his desert robes on, despite them being covered in sand, because it made him look more pitiful and because he might need to sleep on them that night.

"Hey," someone asked. "You alright?"

Ling looked up slowly at an average height man with gold hair, bright gold eyes, and golden tanned skin.

For a moment, Ling thought he was hallucinating and still caught in the Xexcers ruins and the people of gold had arisen from their desert oasis.

"Sir? Are you from Xing? Do you have anyone waiting for you here?"

Ling blinked, the golden prince was speaking Amestrian.

"No," Ling said, his throat aching. He felt as though he were wasting away, his stomach a cave that was about to buckle in on itself.

"No, you're Xing, no, you don't have anyone waiting for you, or no, you aren't alright?" the golden haired Amestrian asked.

Even his chi felt golden, sparkling before Ling like the sun, only welcoming and warm, not the thing that had been trying to cook him alive on his journey.

His words though, were too much.

Seeming to understand this, the boy offered him a hand up, "Come on, join me for lunch. Food makes most things better."

Ling decided he loved this golden boy, whose hand he took. He was so relieved at the concept of food he almost missed the oddness of the hand beneath the white glove. It was strangely hard.

He didn't say anything though as he was into a cool restaurant that read Cretan above it.

"I'm Edward Elric-Hughes, by the way," his saviour said once they were seated.

Ling down a glass of water that didn't taste like warm metal as the crap from the public fountain had. "Ling Yao."

"Nice to meet you," Edward with a smile that charmed Ling down to his sand filled shows.

Ling inhaled the two bread rolls the waiter laid on the table while Edward ordered for them.

He really hoped he could order me food than that but it was better than starving.

When the waiter walked off and Ling swallowed another glass of water, he said, "Yes, I'm Xing, no, I don't have anyone waiting for me, and yes, thanks to you, I am alright."

Edward cocked his head to the side, his braid spilling over his shoulder, "You crossed the desert on your own?"

"Yes, and I wouldn't recommend it."

"Fair enough," he said as the food came.

Ling finished the first serving in record time. He still felt starved but he didn't want to take advantage of the person helping him whose chi felt so… unique. If Ling had to bet, Mr. Elric-Hughes was an alchemist, an extremely powerful one at that.

"Can you read Amistrian?" Edward asked, holding out a menu. "You can order as much as you like."

Damn, Ling thought as he accepted the menu, thanking him in Xingese before correcting the thanks in Amestrian. If he was being seduced, the golden alchemist was certainly going above and beyond.

Ling ordered three more servings and Edward ordered dessert with him.

Toward the end of lunch, however, Edward started staring at him in a way he hadn't before. The frown knitting his brows put Ling on edge, even if he could only sense curiosity in his chi.

"You've been incredibly generous," Ling began.

Edward waved it away, "I can afford it, I really didn't anticipate how large my salary would be, especially as I still live with my family."

Ling blinked, wanting to ask why a kid around his own age had a salary job and why he was still staring at him as if he had something on his face.

"You remind me a lot of someone I know. Your features… But you're completely Xingese, right?"

Ling was again a bit thrown, "Yes, I'm Xingese and I don't have any Amestrian ancestors."

Just a brother, he added a mentally.

Edward shook his head, "It's uncanny. The two of you could be brothers, he's like twice your age if you're around my age —but still. Anyway, what possessed you to try crossing the desert?"

Ling fiddled with teacup, it couldn't be that easy. Surely it was a case of someone thinking all Xingese look alike. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen," Edward said.

"Same. I'm actually looking for my older half brother. He would be nearly fifteen years older than me."

Edward grinned, "Quite the age gap."

"We're half brothers."

"Ah," Edward said in understanding. "I can bring you to the registrar at the library, you can probably look up a surname. Other than that though. The only people I personally know of Xingese descent are a Furey and a Mustang, you're the first Yao I've ever met."

Ling felt his jaw drop.

Was it that easy!?

Swallowing hard, he asked, "Mustang?"

"Yeah, Roy Mustang, he's my boss."

Well, fuck him, it was worth investigating.

"Could you introduce us? My brother and I share a mother, not fathers."

"Of course," Edward said, finishing his juice. He laid a tip on the table before rising to his feet. "Come, he should be back from lunch now, and if it's not him or someone he knows, I can take you down to the registrar and put in a request for you."

Ling rose, hurriedly grabbing his stuff, "I really can't thank you enough for your help. Amestris has so far surpassed all expectations of hospitality."

Edward laughed, "Probably more of a Hughes thing, our country can be a bit prickly at times given the constant conflicts, but being Xingese you shouldn't expect too much hostility. The desert prevents any military history between us."

Ling smiled uncertainly, following Edward's clipped pace. "All the same, I'm grateful."

By the time they got to the government buildings, Ling realized he should have asked what exactly Edward did for a living.

When they stepped into a place with guards and two people saluted him, a dark haired woman with amazing blue eyes and a blonde man who looked positively drab beside Edward's golden colouring, Ling realized that no, things weren't going to be easy.

He didn't have any freaking papers or visas. This could end badly for him.

The woman addressed Edward and despite her salute, her voice was chiding, "Major Hughes, you need to stop losing your guard."

Ling choked, a Major!?

Ancestors help him, why wasn't the boy wearing a uniform? Surely, black clothes overlain with a distinct red coat with white gloves were not the military standard. How the hell did a sixteen-year-old even make it to Major?

Ling might have been from a small clan but he was still raised to be Emperor, he knew the basics of Amestris's hierarchy.

"It was just lunch, if he attacks in broad daylight we have bigger problems," Edward said waving her off.

"You're a Major?" Ling asked. And someone was out to kill him by the worried address he had just been given. Which at least Ling could relate to.

"What—? Oh, yeah, I'm a State Alchemist. I got certified a few months ago. State Alchemists start out with a rank of Major."

A dog of the military, Ling thought with a shudder. News of Ishval had reached Xing and basically blacklisted the country of Amestris. Alchestry was mainly a medicinal practice but State Alchemists were human weapons.

"Who is this?" the man asked.

"My new friend, Ling Yao," Edward said. "Ling these are my dad's men, Sergeant Denny Brosh and Lieutenant Maria Ross."

"Your dad?" Ling asked, cursing himself for following pretty strangers.

"Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes," Edward said. "He's not an alchemist, he's head of the intelligence department at Central."

One wrong move and Ling was dead. Feeling as if he had just walked into the viper's den, he began checking the windows and counting floors. "Your boss then is a—"

Edward slowed a bit so they were even with each other, "Colonel Roy Mustang, sorry, I guess I should have mentioned that."

Ling who had mildly wanted to kiss his pretty saviour now wanted nothing more than to punch him. "Is he also an alchemist?"

Because there was a presence in the room they were fast approaching.

Brosh laughed, "Sure is, the Colonel is the Flame Alchemist, Hero of Ishval."

Ling couldn't quite keep the disgust off his face, not in time, anyway.

Hero of Ishval.

What a beautiful title for a mass murderer.

Ling suddenly didn't want to meet his brother. Why was everyone in his family homicidal?

Edward's smile had fallen, "You alright?"

Ling nodded, "Sure, I just didn't realise you were military."

Edward laid his left hand on Ling's shoulder and a zing of warmth seemed to jump from his chi to Ling's.

A sudden memory hit him of his mother laying a hand over his eyes, closing them after an assassination attempt had gotten too close and far messier than Ling had ever seen before that point.

He had been all of five years old.

Don't trust your eyes or still waters. Chi can be hidden, but it can never lie, with every intention there is a connection, from theirs to yours. You must learn to see without seeing, my son.

His mother had left a few years after, trying to cross the desert, and she had died on that journey.

Edward squeezed his shoulder, "Do you want to go back? You don't have to be here."

Ling shook his head, calmed by the knowledge that Edward's intentions were nothing but well meant.

If the Flame Alchemist really was Ling's brother he would know and learn with at least one friendly face at his side.

"No, I'll meet him. I just don't want to waste too much of your time."

Edward grinned, "Knowing Mustang, any excuse to break from paperwork is a good one."

Ross and Brosh saluted them at the door before departing.

Ling had to consciously breathe to keep from holding his breath as he stepped into the office. It was a medium-sized room with two groupings of desks, a single one desk by the window.

The windows were open, there were several bookshelves along the walls and a room that Ling guessed to be a private office, the door open and the room itself empty of any people Ling could sense. But Colonel Mustang was sitting at the single desk, a blonde woman leaning over his shoulder as they read over a document together.

It had to be Colonel Mustang, there was another that looked as if he might be of Xingese descent but the Colonel, to Edward's credit, looked a lot like Ling.

But more than that, Roy Mustang looked like the male version of his —their— mother.

Throat dry, Ling followed Edward, every eye in the room following them save Mustang himself.

The woman at his side, straightened, her amber eyes sparking like flint, the pure menace in her chi reminded Ling painfully of Lan Fan.

Edward knocked on his desk, "Hey, Colonel, I brought someone to meet you."

Mustang looked up, his eyes locking with Ling's.

Ling was a prince, had survived innumerable assassination attempts, the genocide of his clan, and the trip across the great desert, but he still felt cowed by this man.

Ling had met his father, the Emperor of Xing only once; Colonel Roy Mustang struck more of a regal air about him than his father had.

If someone told him Mustang was the Fuhrer, the ruler of Amestris, Ling would have believed them without question.

As Ling starred, the man's shoulders eased and he sat back in his chair, the regal air swallowed away into that of a bored officer too long at his desk.

He might have been fooled but chi does not lie.

Mustang's gaze cut to Edward, "Fullmetal."

Apparently, that was his title, like Flame Alchemist, because Edward answered the unspoken question, "This is Ling Yao, he's looking for a Mustang. And I still think the resemblance is striking, more so now that I see you in the same room."

oOo

Roy stared at the young man who —to Fullmetal's credit— did bare more than a passing resemblance to himself.

The dark-haired boy seemed deeply unsettled but his voice was solid as he asked, "Was your mother Mulan Yao?"

Roy felt as if he had been backhanded, even Aunt Chris rarely spoke his mother's name.

So in answer, all he managed was terse, "That was my mother's name, yes."

"She was my mother as well," Ling Yao said, sounding not at all happy about that.

Roy wasn't happy about the news either, though he wasn't quite ready to believe a perfect stranger, familiar features or no.

Very aware of his team's entire presence in the room and watching, Roy lowered his voice even if he knew everyone could still hear him. "My mother remarried?"

Ling looked uncomfortable, "Well… not exactly. How much do you know of her past?"

"She was Xingese, she crossed the desert by herself, and never wanted to return."

Ling remained tense, "Surely you noticed she was a noblewoman?"

Roy had noticed, Aunt Chris still referred to his mother as the most beautiful woman in the world. But he answered with, "She was a poet, a singer, and a songwriter."

"The Yao clan has been declining for decades, we aren't exactly drowning songstresses." Ling tensed further, "I was told her husband in Amestris was assassinated when they retrieved her."

Roy felt his rage rise inside him, it was blinding with its intensity and the boy flinched back, but Fullmetal merely frowned at them both.

Roy didn't really care who was in the room at this point or what they thought. His voice was low when he spoke, "My father was murdered in cold blood and my mother was taken from us. That was more than twenty years ago. Are you telling me you know who killed them?"

"Mulan Yao's father, our grandfather," Ling said. "She was the only daughter of the chief of our clan. Her leaving was a disgrace—"

Roy stood, his chair falling back, "My mother was not a disgrace. Where is she? Is she still in Xing?"

"She died in the desert when she tried to return to Amestris," Ling said cautiously.

"Why was she taken? Why was my father killed for it?" Roy demanded. He wasn't in the habit of discussing his personal business at work. But it was no secret he was an orphan and Ling had the look of someone ready to run.

Roy wanted answers, now.

"A daughter from the chief of every clan is taken as a concubine by the Emperor of Xing to cement fealty by binding the ruling families through blood to the ruler," Fullmetal said, drawing Roy's ire to himself. "There's what forty-something heirs? And you're a prince, one of the Emperor's sons?"

The room was echoingly quiet.

Ling looked at Edward who some of the heat Roy was unfairly taking out on his supposed half-brother.

Who was also a prince of a neighbouring country…

What the fuck, Mom?

"Yes, I'm Prince Ling Yao of the Yao clan," Ling said to Edward, not Roy.

Edward frowned, "Isn't it like a battle to the top? Siblings against siblings?"

Riza tensed and Roy sighed, he didn't want to meet family only to be forced to kill family.

"Yes, but my entire clan was murdered by a rival clan, and I've taken myself out of the running," Ling said, looking back to Roy. "No one is coming after you. The Yao Clan is finished."

"They came after my father," Roy said. "They took my mother by force."

The boy winced, looking away.

Roy's anger deflated realising that while they shared a mother, their histories were immensely different.

Roy's parents had been a madly in love married couple who hadn't had much in material wealth, but enough to be content.

Ling's parents hadn't been that. His mother had been a concubine forced to bear a child with an emperor with fifty other 'wives' and fifty other children that presumably wanted Ling dead. This boy was young, and despite the state of his clothes after crossing the great desert, were of fine quality.

Ling had been born a prince, with every need provided, save for safety and love.

Roy had been born to an immigrant family, with just enough to survive, but until they were taken from him, Roy had only ever known safety and love.

"I'm sorry," Roy said.

"For what?" Ling asked suspiciously.

"For your losses."

The boy finally relaxed some and he reached into a bag at his side.

Riza reached for her gun and Ling ignored her, either bravely or foolishly, pulling out a small silk bundle. The silk was deep blue with silver swallows and peach blossoms embroidered into it. Ling held it out to Roy and he took it.

He unfolded it gently, his hands miraculously not shaking. The silk smelled like his mother's jasmine perfume.

Inside the folds of silk were three volumes of tightly bound books. Their titles were all in Xingese and all authored by Mulan Mustang.

Three handwritten books of his mother's poems and songs.

The last thing in the bundle was a framed portrait of his mother. He hadn't seen her outside his nightmares and dreams in so long…

But their show was, her likeness captured by the strokes of ink.

Roy looked up, surprised that his eyes remained dry, "How old are you?"

"Sixteen," Ling answered.

Same age as Fullmetal then.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" Roy asked.

"No," the boy said.

"Then my home is yours."

oOo

Ling watched Edward surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye. The further away they get from his half brother more he's reminded of how pretty the alchemist beside him is. Which is not what he should be thinking about. But that again didn't matter if he didn't have any papers if he could prove he was related to his brother, his brother who was a military official?

The house they arrived at with a two story slim building tucked between houses with much bigger loans. The house they entered was comparatively small. but had high ceilings, the first room floor was made up of a kitchen, a small eating room, and a seating area that had wall-to-wall bookshelves that stretched to the ceiling.

Lieutenant Hawkeye went to the kitchen and got them some more food we're chilling was entirely grateful for.

It must have been Fullmetal's first time here as well because he was looping around as well, eyeing the book shelves with almost lustful eyes.

Hawkeye directed them to sit in the kitchen and threw together some sandwiches, she moved through space as if she lived here.

Maybe she did.

Afterward, Hawkeye nodded Edward to go ahead to the shelves while she waved Ling up the stairs. She showed him around and to the bathroom where he was able to shower.

It was heavenly after so long in the desert.

He didn't make it downstairs for as soon as he sat on the bed he found himself falling into it.

oOo

Riza checked on the boy and helped get him into bed.

When she came back downstairs , Ed was still stuck in a book.

She glanced at the title, smirked and went to one of the bookshelves. She might have only recently unofficially-officially moved in with Roy, but she had always been the one to organise his bookshelves. She grabbed the book that had once been hers.

She approached Edward, "Here, take this one, he's the better philosopher."

Ed looked up at her with golden eyes, "You research alchemy?"

"I was going to become an alchemist, until my mother died serving the State and my father decided that the State was evil."

Ed tilted his head to the side, "But you still serve the State."

She let herself smile a bit, "This world doesn't need another Flame Alchemist, besides, I prefer shooting things."

He narrowed his eyes as if he could see through her, as if he knew she missed it, as if he knew there had to be much, much more to the story if he was willing to give it up.

More than just losing a mother and having an unpleasant father.

"We all have our secrets, Edward."

He smiled, "That is the truth." He held up the book, "Thanks. And if you have any other suggestions, I'll read just about anything."

She nodded, "You'll have to stay until your guard can change shifts."

He nodded, setting aside the book he had been reading to open the one Riza had given him.

She went to the kitchen to start on dinner. She was not a house wife, but Roy cooked and baked, he was amazing at both and for her, he did both for every night she stayed.

Riza didn't mind cooking on the one night she got to return home early.

oOo

AN: Thoughts, hawks, or feedback, pretty please?