The Golden Sun: Chapter Twenty-One: Godmother

AN: Please do not pressure me about updates. I have a life and mental health to look after.


She knew his name, she'd been there when Trisha had smiled tiredly and placed her squirming newborn into Olivier's arms, accustomed to the weight and size of weapons more than children. A tuft of golden hair on his head and equally golden eyes wincing open.

The boy who'd opened the door had been both stranger and familiar to Olivier's memory. Edward Elric's eyes were shaped more like Hohenheim's, but the curve of his cheekbones, his jaw, that was all Trisha.

She was thankful that Miles had spoken because the instant she'd seen the boy, she'd seen Trisha shine through and her tongue had caught in her throat.

"Can I get you tea, or somethin'?" Ed asked awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head with his automail hand.

"If you have any on hand," Miles smiled kindly.

Ed nodded absently, turning and heading into the kitchen to fetch a kettle and Olivier took one of the armchairs in the main room, threadbare and not quite comfortable, probably due to be replaced whenever necessary, leaving Miles to sit on the edge of the couch, leaning forward with interest to inspect the multitude of pictures spread across the table there.

Olivier recognized a great deal of them; they'd been taken in North City, when Trisha had still been serving.

Miles took off his sunglasses and there were a few minutes of complete silence before Ed returned, offering them mismatched mugs, dropping awkwardly to the edge of the couch, completely opposite Miles.

Ed cleared his throat uncomfortably. "So…people that knew my mom just dropping by out of the blue because…?"

"I thought you and your brother were still in Resembool," Olivier spoke bluntly and to the point. "I'm in Central for a meeting of generals, I wasn't expecting to find her son wearing the military uniform at fourteen."

Ed started faintly in surprise, mostly at how she knew how old he was.

"Where's your brother?" Olivier had to work at making her voice not quite so sharp. She wasn't dealing with her men, she was dealing with the godson she'd never known.

"Visiting our alchemy teacher," Ed said carefully with narrowed eyes. The only framed picture in the house was of Trisha with the boys but it must've been taken years ago. "He'll be back in a few days."

"And your father?"

"Wherever the fuck he ran off to after ditching us." Ed rolled his eyes, bitterness burning his words. "Bastard's been gone since I was five."

"Ah," Miles said uncomfortably, opting to take a drink of tea than speak to that. He had met Van Hohenheim exactly once but he and Trisha had seemed happy enough.

"How did Trisha die?" Olivier asked suddenly and bluntly; it seemed to be the best way to go at the moment.

Ed flinched hard.

"Uh, General?" Miles was never one to offer warnings to Olivier, she was usually the one that knew when she'd overstepped her bounds, but he could tell from Ed -from the tension in his body, how his hands clenched tight, how the muscle in his jaw jumped- that it wasn't a topic he liked to speak of.

Ed met her eyes evenly but it was hard to gauge anything behind the hard blue. And at long last, his shoulders sagged.

"She sent us out," he told them, "she wanted us to get some apples to make hamantaschen but Al wanted persimmons, it was a whole thing." A brief smile twitched across his mouth but it faded just as quickly. "We took the long way back so we could go by Winry's -Rockbell, she's our best friend- and when we made it home…" Ed swallowed thickly, running his thumb over his automail knuckles. "She'd collapsed and we had to run and get help…"

"Illness?" Miles prompted. "Or—?"

"That's what they thought. A lot of people got sick in Resembool around that time." Ed shrugged. He could be impartial with facts, they were the easiest to convey.

Mom had been so out of it towards the end and their house had been packed with practically every Ishvalan that Ed and Al had ever met. Death was a family affair and Trisha's parents had been long gone by the time her death rolled around.

The other Ishvalans had kept Ed and Al as distracted as they possibly could during that time and even now Ed was grateful for that. They'd just been kids, they shouldn't have had to deal with all the rites that came with death.

It was the last day when she was so weak, her skin more translucent than anything else that she summoned them to her room and embraced them with as much strength as she was capable. They'd held onto her tight until her grip failed.

Illness might've spread quickly during that season, but Mom was the only one that had died from it, which was practically unheard of; generally sudden illnesses like hers claimed at least three (Resembool was pretty suspicious on their rule of three).

"You don't agree."

Ed blinked, drawn out of his thoughts to stare at the woman. She was surveying him in a calculating manner, almost appraising; Ed wasn't sure how he felt about it. It was true, there were a lot of strange events that happened around the time Mom died -Al claiming to have seen a young man with golden eyes like them, some of Hohenheim's books disappearing so suddenly that Mom had torn the study apart with a look of fear on her face, a stone with an unfamiliar crest left on the front door that had made Mom keep them in all day- but, as far as he knew, Mom died of illness.

Ed sighed long and hard, picking up a picture of the general and his mother arm in arm. They seemed almost happy and for a moment Ed considered breaking their rule about just how many people they'd agreed to tell about how their bodies were the way they were. It didn't matter if they and his mother were good friends, Mustang's team already knew, as did Teacher and Sig and the Rockbells, and that was already more than enough in on the secret.

"I'd like to think that of my mother's death was natural, or as close to natural as it could've been," he said finally, trying not to think about the mangled ruin of contorted bones, grotesque limbs, and blood spread across the floor. "Until someone gives me evidence that it's not."

He met her eyes evenly that time and she actually huffed a snort. "You're so like her its uncanny."

"People usually say Al's more like her," Ed had to counter, though he did appreciate it; better to be like Mom than Hohenheim.

"Does he have an icy temper?" she asked, taking a sip of tea.

"Oh, for sure," Ed bobbed his head quickly with a grimace.

Both of them shared a look that Ed couldn't decipher before the woman held out her hand to him. Ed took it.

"Major General Olivier Mira Armstrong," she introduced herself at long last.

Ed narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You aren't related to Major Armstrong, are you?"

Olivier gave something that was a cross between amusement and annoyance. "Younger brother, unfortunately."

Ed tried to mentally equate Major Alex Louis Armstrong with his large bulging muscles who always seemed to be glistening for some unknown reason as being the younger brother to Olivier, who he couldn't deny was an imposing figure with her face carved as though from ice and a sword at her hip, but still not as…bulky and expressive as the Major.

He decided not to question that.

"And that's Major Hadar Miles." The Ishvalan gave a little wave.

This time, Ed offered him not his hand, but his arm, as it was customary grasp forearms in their culture. You grasped forearms and pressed your foreheads together if it was someone you know well, but Ed didn't know Miles well, if at all.

Miles looked surprised but pleased, taking Ed's arm and giving it a squeeze.

"I hear you serve under the Hero of Ishval," Miles said mildly, "what's that like?"

Ed skated over that with a "We're not talking right now."

"Never liked Mustang," Olivier snorted into her tea. "He's a shameless flirt."

Well, Ed couldn't deny that. He'd seen Mustang flirting and then he'd looked to Havoc with a dubious expression on his face and asked him "You mean that actually gets him girls?"

To which Havoc lamented of his lack of girlfriends due to the Colonel's 'game'. It probably should've dawned on Ed at that point that he was gay, but he supposed he needed to actually see Ling Yao and get so flustered by his flirting for it actually to hit him (like a fucking train).

The flirting had never worked on Hawkeye though, and Ed was pretty sure that she was the one Mustang would've liked it to work on.

"Did Mom ever talk about her family much?" Ed directed his question towards Miles before leaning down to scratch behind Nitro's ears when he padded over to his legs -undoubtedly missing Al-, nuzzling against Ed's metal leg.

"A little, why?" Miles frowned then. "Did she not tell you anything about them?"

"We were pretty young." Ed kept his eyes on Nitro, trying to force a would-be calm. "I think she thought she'd have more time."

"I don't know much about her father's side, but I know a little about her mother's family." Miles gave the boy a smile. "If you've got the time."

"I've got more tea," Ed grinned.


Hours later when Ed had started to nod off, the pair had decided it would probably be best to excuse themselves.

"Curiosity sated, sir?" Miles couldn't help but ask as they walked away from the house under the darkening sky.

"Not even slightly," Olivier scoffed. "He's hiding something I'm just not sure what it is."

Miles heaved a sigh. "Did you at least enjoy yourself?"

Olivier's lips twitched faintly. "I did…meeting Alphonse will be interesting." He'd still been small when Trisha had resigned, but Edward had been large enough to hug Olivier's pantleg, giggling madly.

She shut her eyes briefly, remembering the last time she saw Trisha Elric.

"What's this?" she asked when the alchemist handed her a thick packet.

"My resignation," Trisha informed her flatly, and Olivier looked up, jarred. "With the war heating up in Ishval and…" She paused, taking in a deep breath. "Kimblee bombed Emunah two days ago."

Emunah, Olivier remembered, was where Trisha's mother had been from. "Ah."

"I don't even know if my aunt or uncle or even my cousins survived," Trisha's words were so hollow that they echoed. Olivier couldn't remember the name of cousins, just that they were two brothers, one of which she was sure was a monk, and the other who was a scholar that was always debating alchemic theory with Trisha.

"I'm sorry." Olivier wasn't sure what else there was to be said. They both knew that she was loyal to the military and would've had to report Trisha if she'd deserted. It was difficult for Ishvalans in the military. Olivier had heard rumors of them being rounded up and then 'disappeared'. She suspected executed but who would speak on that subject? No one.

One week ago, the Fuhrer had come to see Trisha, perhaps to convince her to retire quietly, and all Olivier knew was that Trisha had had Van take the boys out of town for a few days.

"Don't be." Trisha's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's better this way…besides, I've still got my mother's house in Resembool and I hear a lot of Ishvalan refugees are settling there." She brushed her intricate braid over her shoulder so it fell down her back before saluting her friend. "It's been a privilege and an honor to serve under you, sir."

Olivier had never been a very physical person, in fact, she tended to avoid it, but just this once, she gifted her friend with a hug.

"Don't be a stranger," Trisha told her before vanishing out the door.

She opened her eyes and silenced a sigh.

But she had. As soon as Trisha had walked out of her life, Olivier had cut off all contact with her. Not on purpose, but it seemed that she was so continually swamped with things to do that she'd just never had the time.

And in that time, Hohenheim had left Trisha.

And in that time, Trisha had died.

And in that time, Ed and Al had grown up without family.

And in that time, Ed had lost two limbs and refused to say how.

Ed looked too old in that uniform and in many ways, he looked too much like his mother, and that hurt more.

"We'll see him tomorrow," Miles was quite certain, but it just reminded her that she had deal with another full day of old men posturing with barely enough space to fit in the room on top of their egos.

Olivier was really starting to miss Briggs.


Lunch was awkward. Well, it had always been a bit awkward at the start because Ed and Al tended to wander off on their own and people gave Al a wide berth. It had gotten a bit better when they'd started sitting with Havoc and Breda, and then Fuery and Falman, but Ed had decided to pretty much avoid Mustang's men, especially since he was sitting with them today.

But towards the back he could see Miles and Olivier sitting together, firmly away from the crowd. Miles looked up, then, and smiled, motioning with his hand that Ed could come and sit with them. Ed tried not to be obvious about how relieved he was.

He walked past Mustang without even glancing his way, settling down across from Olivier.

"Uh, boss...did the chief just sit down with Major General Armstrong?" Havoc was struck in surprise, hissing across the table to Mustang, who had been so focused on drinking his coffee (and avoiding looking towards Ed at all times), coughed and spluttered out a "What?"

Hawkeye wordlessly handed over a napkin, which he almost disregarded in leaning back to stare. Major Miles was still wearing his snow-blind glasses inside, but Mustang knew it was to hide the red. He said something and Ed's laughter echoed.

Something inside him burned at that, which was ridiculous. Roy couldn't possibly be jealous of Major Hadar Miles who was undoubtedly being friendly to the son of his former colleague. He didn't have a right to be when he was the one actively avoiding Ed in the first place (thank God Al wasn't back yet because Roy got the feeling the cold shoulder he'd been setting was going to be one hundred times worse with the younger Elric).

He frowned when he realized he'd gotten Olivier's attention. Ed's back was to him, but she had clear view of Roy where she sat opposite Ed, and Roy watched as a smirk twisted across her lips.

Roy looked away and tried to focus on eating his food, but it turned sour in his mouth.

He was a coward, a complete and utter coward and that was the truth of it. A stronger man would've been able to sit Ed and Al down and tell them how he'd committed such horrendous acts against their people and how disenchanted it had made him during the war, and how he wished he could take it all back but knew that he couldn't.

It reminded him of when he'd asked Ed what he thought would've happened if his father had stayed.

"Things would've been different if the bastard had stuck around, things would've been different if Mom hadn't gotten sick…but I could think about what could've gone differently a thousand times and it wouldn't change anything; Al and I're still here, still trying to get our bodies back, wanting it to be different won't actually change anything."

And he'd been right, then, too. Wishing something didn't happen wouldn't make it so, and Roy knew that all too well. There was really only one direction for him, and that was forward.

Too bad Roy had so many traps laid out on the path, some of which he'd crafted himself, that going back was honestly more preferable.


"Ishvalan is honestly more of a verbal language, I'm actually surprised you have anything where it's written down," Miles admitted, "not that it isn't written at all, but there's not really a 'how to speak Ishvalan' guide sitting around."

"They attempted to ban it for a few years, so that didn't help either," Olivier mused, watching Ed eat with fascination, wondering where on earth all that food went, because the kid was small, even for his age.

"They banned it?" Ed's eyes widened in surprise. "But it's just a language…" He'd grown up with it in the house, but he'd long forgotten what the words meant. The most he could remember were songs that Mom had once sang while working in the kitchen or when trying to get Ed or Al to go to sleep, and he couldn't even repeat the words from memory, just the tune.

"It's one of the ways you destroy a culture," Miles informed him with a grimace. "Being not able to speak your own native tongue is…brutal."

A deep frown marred Ed's mouth.

"But I'll see what I can find about anything that could help with the language," Miles said with an assuring smile, "and I'll give you the names of some people that could help you."

"Thanks, either way, it helps." Ed couldn't really convey just how important it was, but Miles understood either way. "So…both of you are going back to North City after this?"

"I'll always prefer Briggs to this cesspool." Olivier rolled her eyes for good measure. "As soon as the last meeting is done, we're on the first train out."

"Isn't it always snowing there?"

"Still preferable," Olivier countered without a change in expression that had Ed sniggering into the last of his orange juice.

"Um, Lieutenant Colonel Elric, sir?"

Olivier raised her eyes as the Lieutenant gave a quick salute to both herself and Miles, though it was clear her attention was only for Ed, who turned around to give it to her. "Lieutenant Ross?"

"Sir, I've been asked to relay to you that Mr. Shou Tucker is ready to showcase his exemption to the practical of the State Alchemist Exam."

Ed blinked in surprise and Olivier supposed that whatever it was was significant. "Thanks, I'll head over."

"Back to work," he said once she'd left.

"We'll walk you over," Miles said quickly, knowing the chances of seeing him before they left that night were rather slim and Ed glanced at their half-eaten food before conceding.

Olivier let Miles do most of the talking, she'd never been much of a conversationalist, but she didn't need to be.

"I don't need you to talk," Trisha had once told her, "I just need you to be there, for me."

"So," Ed said awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his head, "I guess this is goodbye…thank you, for everything. I liked the stories about Mom, and Al'll like them too." He offered his arm to Miles, but Miles surpassed him and wound his arms around Ed and gave him a tight hug.

Ed cast a surprised glance towards Olivier who stifled a smile -mostly. Miles had felt Trisha's loss more keenly than most. They'd been the only two of Ishvalan blood in Briggs and Trisha more so than Olivier had been the one to convince Miles to remain in the military, affect change from within. Ed must've seen how Miles' shoulders shook briefly and he carefully brought his arms up to give Miles a squeeze.

Then Miles released him and Olivier knew it took great strain not to wipe under his glasses. "You and your brother have to come to North City and visit…and we'll tell you even more stories about your mom."

"Al'd like that, well, we'd both like it," he acquiesced, "but Al likes hearing stories the most."

"Edward."

He turned his attention towards Olivier and she almost told him the truth, she almost said the word 'godmother' but it turned to ash in her mouth. She'd always told Trisha she wasn't equipped to be anyone's godmother, let alone two quarter-Ishvalan boys. Trisha had never agreed.

Instead she held out one hand to him, which he took, and, feeling bold, she pressed one hand against his cheek, to his surprise.

"Don't be a stranger," she repeated his mother's words back to him.

And then she and Miles left him, rubbing his cheek with a bit of bemusement. She glanced out of the corner of her eye to Miles, lifting his glasses to wipe at his eyes.

"You can have a good cry on the train."

"Thank you, sir." Miles sniffed.


Roy Mustang's phone rang late into the night, not quite startling him awake, as he rarely slept very well, but he still answered it with a tired "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Roy Mustang?" there was little he could tell from the static on the other end other than the speaker was female.

"Yes, who is this?"

"We met once before." There was a pause almost like a pained intake of breath. "My name is Lanfan, I was at the hospital with Edward."

The young Xingese girl that Ed had smuggled across the border to get medical attention. "Ah, yes, I remember. What can I do for you tonight, Lanfan?"

"Edward gave me your number because he said his wasn't set up yet and to call you to get his, I was wondering if I could get it from you?"

"Oh, of course, hang on—" Roy flipped on the light, leaving the phone in order to find his contact booklet where all his contacts were listed, flipping to the E's, and picking the phone back up. "All right, I've got it, do you have something to write it down?"

"I'm ready."

Once he relayed the number, she thanked him profusely and hung up, leaving Roy to stare at his phone blankly.

I hope Ed hasn't helped her cross over illegally again, was his last thought before he passed out on the bed.


Everything to do with chimeras was some fucked up shit, and that was Ed's professional opinion. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something really wrong with the whole thing, but he didn't know enough about bioalchemy to dispute it.

Still, the unshakeable way it had uttered the words "I want to die" made him sick to his stomach.

Ed was going to need a second opinion…there had to be someone that knew bioalchemy at Central University…maybe he'd try that tomorrow, see if he was right or not…

The telephone rang suddenly and Ed jolted, sending Nitro to the floor with an annoyed "Mrow!" as Ed rushed to the phone. "Al?"

"Lanfan actually," came the tired reply on the other end.

Ed started in surprise. "Lanfan?"

"Remember when you said to call if I needed anything?"

"Yeah?" Ed asked carefully. "Why? What's wrong?"

"I might need some help." She sounded like she was in pain.

"Tell me where you are," Ed said without even blinking, and then he was out of the door, barely remembering to slam it shut behind him as he raced out.


AN: The Xing Trio are back in Amestris! Which is very exciting. Miles is a very emotional man and one day he's gonna have one arm around Ed and the other around Al and they're gonna be quarter-Ishvalan bros lol.

Olivier was the hardest to write, but she strikes me as the one to sit back and let Miles get all the talking out of his system. She's the type of person to quietly care.

As always: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!