Author's Note

Bit of a long wait for this one, sorry! I had the hardest time deciding where to cut if off, so there's quite a bit after this written. I'm hoping to have the next chapter up next week.

I'm currently going back through the older chapters to try my best and correct anything that may have been left over from previous read-throughs. This includes rectifying a few continuation errors and things like that.

And if you're up for being a beta reader, please hit me up! I could really use someone who has like. Better eyes. Also possibly a better brain?

Lastly, I've finally got that blog up! You can find it on tumblr at herbalalchemist. There's literally nothing yet, but I'm hoping to change that very soon.

Sitting across from someone who physically can't eat isn't as awkward as I was worried it would be. Part of it is thanks to Alphonse himself; he makes conversation effortless and effortlessly. Even while I eat, he makes it easy not to feel self-conscious.

"You said you're from Folton, right?," he asks casually. I nod as I shove another slice of bacon in my mouth. "That's southeast, isn't it? What's it like?"

"Mm, small, for sure," I answer, pausing to think as I sip at a (blessed) cup of coffee. "Not much there honestly, it was mostly textile businesses, lots of seamstresses. My parents helped out the town doctor and sold herbal remedies. That's pretty much it."

Alphonse stays quiet for a few seconds. I'm assuming he's processing what I said; trying to imagine it. If the Elrics are from the farmlands, I can't figure he'd be able to envision it pretty well. Folton really is just maybe a few dozen roads, a grocer, a Doctor, my parents and way more old ladies weaving and sewing than any town actually needs. There isn't even really a school proper; the younger kids just go to the town hall. Even I stopped going when I was twelve in favour of staying home. My parents let me, obviously, but...
Suffice to say it's small and usually boring.

"You...," Alphonse starts again. I can hear the hesitation in his voice. Again, I find myself curious about just how he works. "You mentioned your parents are helping in Lior."

I place my mug down on the table slowly and deliberately. I expected this to come up, but I don't know where this is going. I don't know that I want it to go anywhere.

I let my silence prompt the younger brother into continuing. When he doesn't, I clear my throat and lean back in my chair. Appetite is a finicky thing.

"Yeah, they... when they heard about what happened after the uprising, they didn't want to leave the sick and injured in the hands of the military." I open my mouth again to apologize, but remember it's only Edward who's actually a state alchemist. Alphonse seems to understand despite my hesitation. He nods slowly, and I can't help but pick guiltily at the potatoes and beans on my plate.

I expect Alphonse to keep asking questions about me and my life in Folton, but the air itself feels like it changes. It reminds me of my mother scolding me for trying to eat the cookies straight out of the oven.
The younger brother carefully—and very deliberately—folds his hands on the table in front of him.

"When you opened the door before, were you smoking?"

Caught.

I'd been hoping no one had seen or remembered that. The situation is just made even more awkward and uncomfortable for the fact that it sounds like a twelve year old is scolding me from inside a seven and a half foot tall suit of armour. I could try and come up with an excuse, or a shitty deflection—but what's the point? I can barely get my own thoughts organized enough not to panic.

This is when Edward decides to grace us with his presence. A conversational out has never looked so good. He slumps down in the third chair at our small table, to my right, throwing an arm over the back of the it. He looks obnoxiously familiar and comfortable.

Maybe that's how you get when you travel for a while. I don't know if I aspire to that level of nonchalance, if it means never having a place to call my own.

He still looks annoyed and half asleep.

Alphonse somehow manages to convey that he is absolutely not done with our conversation but has the good grace to drop it for the moment. To be continued.

I return to sipping at my coffee while the brothers quietly discuss whatever it is Alphonse found—or didn't find—last night.

Edward seems to relax considerably when a waitress returns with a coffee pot. The tension in his shoulders visibly eases as soon as he... gulps it down, black and piping hot. I can't help but chuckle as he laments his burnt tongue. Idiot.

"How's your shoulder feeling, Edward?," I ask, hiding my face behind my mug.

"Ed," he replies shortly, stealing a slice of bread from my plate and chomping—actually chomping—down on it. He continues with a full mouth. "'s fine. Feels tingly, but fine." He considers the bit of toast in his hand. "Thanks."

"Just tell me when it starts to itch," I say with a nod, downing the rest of my coffee and contemplating my plate. "Don't scratch at it, whatever you do. I don't want you to give yourself an infection."
Edward—Ed—clearly bristles at that. Great. If it's not itchy already, he's picked at it by now. I sigh and shove my plate towards him. He can have the rest. Exasperation completely killed whatever was left of my desire to eat.

"I'm gonna need to get honey then." Cross my arms over my chest and glare down at the table. Ed grunts in agreement, though I'm not convinced he's actually paying any attention to what I'm saying. Or cares all that much. "You're paying."

This catches his attention. Tries to speak with his mouth full, nearly chokes, and when he opens his mouth again seems to think better of it. The younger brother seems to consider Ed for a second before turning back to me.

"Is here anything else you think you'd need before we leave?" His hands are folded neatly on the table again. Sometimes it feels like I can see him glaring at me. Has he just gotten that good at nonverbal cues?

"Well, I absolutely need honey", I start, crossing my arms and staring down at the table to think. "It's the only this that's antibacterial that keeps pretty much forever. And it's cheap. Probably more bandages, too. I didn't take a ton because I didn't want to rob the doctor blind. That's really all I can think of."

Ed has the good sense to look somewhat guilty. It wasn't like I was asking for things purely out of self-interest. I would've paid for that myself, with what little money I was able to bring with me.
When I look at the plate I gave the older brother, it's empty. So is his mug of coffee. I look down; so is mine.

"Guess it's time to hit the streets?"

West City is bigger and more daunting than I imagined when I can see it in daylight. It's maybe only eight in the morning, but the streets are bustling with people going to and from work and stores. It's been so long since I've been anywhere near a larger city that I'm awestruck for a while as we walk.

"Did you catch that, Anna?" Alphonse is the one to bring me back to... whatever conversation they were having without me. I clear my throat sheepishly.

"Sorry, no, what was that?"

Ed looks at me unblinkingly for a second before answering for his brother.

"We were thinking of going to the library here to research something. Do—"

"Yes please!," I cut him off, with maybe a little too much enthusiasm. Two or three passers by turn their heads. "Sorry! Sorry. Yes. Library. I want to go with you."

Alphonse laughs and Ed chuckles; did I miss something?

"I mean yeah, that too, but this is your first time in West City, right? Why not go do some sightseeing?"

The question and Edward's tone both catch me off guard. I'm sure that if I could see his face, Alphonse would have a strange expression too. They both seem to be waiting for my answer. I guess I made my curiosity a little too obvious.

"Uh, well...," I trail off, looking at the streets and building around me. Taller than pretty much anything I've seen, and these mostly seem residential. "I mean. I wouldn't say no. What all is there to see around here?"

The brothers give each other a look and I don't need Alphonse to have a flesh-and-bone face to know he's wearing the same exact grin as his brother.

"Well, there is one place I'm sure you'd like," Edward says, putting a finger to his chin like he needs to think about it. I hesitate to ask.

"What... what is it?"

After roughly a half-hour walk, it's a garden. A garden split in half, right down the center: one half is stuffed with poisonous herbs, and the other half is populated uniquely with herbs with medicinal properties.

The Elric brothers are only wrong on one point. I don't like it, I absolutely adore it.

"I had no idea a place like this actually existed," I breathe out, wringing my hands in front of me. Cannot touch. Must absolutely not touch anything.

"We heard about it from Doctor Mar—" Alphonse is cut off by his brother slapping his arm. The sound is cavernous.

"A friend of ours from the military!," Ed completes, a little too merrily. I don't particularly care about who their friend is, honestly, but I don't ask why Edward bothers to hide the name. "He brought this place up a while ago but we never really had a reason to check it out for ourselves."

Predictably, where the medicinal half is free access right from the front gate, Ed needs to flash his pocket watch to have us let into the poisonous area. We're given masks to cover our noses and mouths—something that Alphonse makes a show of falsely putting on beneath his helmet—and let in through thick glass double doors into what seems to be an over-sized greenhouse.

The sight is deceptively breathtaking.

"Oh my g—is that nightshade?" The vibrant violet flowers catch my eye. As i rush over to the small plant, another catches my eye. "No way, is that monkshood? And there! Oh my god. This is incredible!"

When I spin around, Ed has his arms crossed and chest puffed out, and it doesn't escape me that he looks significantly happier than he did when he first joined Alphonse and I for breakfast. Even the younger brother himself had his hands clasped in front of him in what looks like a distinctly pleased manner.

I look around again, before turning back to the brothers. I try my best to ignore the myriad possibilities of antidotes long enough to be civil and appreciative.

"Thank you. This place is fantastic. You know," I walk towards a plant, motioning to its leaves. "This agave plant, if it's in contact with your skin, it can cause serious damage." Ed visibly takes a step back, despite already being several feet away. I can't help but laugh. "But if you're careful with how you prepare the leaves, it can actually get rid of pretty bad migraines!"

"And you can recognize it just like that?," Alphonse asks, walking over to stand next to me, not nearly as apprehensive as his brother. "How many have you memorized like that?"

"Oh geez, I probably couldn't recognize a quarter of the plants in here!," I reply, walking down the row to a large bush, filled with red and yellow buds. "But I know a lot of the more common ones. This thing? No idea. A lot of the plants here probably aren't native to Amestris at all, which is why they have to keep them all in a greenhouse."

"How old did you say you are again?," Edward asks, from a more than respectably safe distance away. There's something underlying in his tone, but I can't be bothered to think about it.

I keep my eyes on the black-red leaves in front of me.

"I didn't say," is my original answer, until I turn back around again. "I'm sixteen. Why're you asking?"

"How long have your parents been away?," he asks, not a hint of hesitation or awkwardness to be found.

Nope.

"I don't want to talk about it. It doesn't matter." I turn back to continue down the row of murder flowers before reaching an intersection. I choose to turn right for no particular reason.

I can barely hear Alphonse say something—probably trying to urge his brother to just drop it, but maybe I'm projecting—but I can hear both of them walking after me. I don't make two feet past a decent growth of what's probably hemlock before stopping. Was that shattering glass?

Edward and Alphonse hear it too, I think, if their halting footsteps are anything to go by. I turn back to ask them where they think it came from when there is an unmistakable explosion somewhere behind me. Ed's eyes go wide and he rushes past me.

"Go back outside!," Alphonse urges me, stopping for a second to put an armoured hand on my shoulder and following after his brother.

I'm not given time to respond. My first and instinctive concern is that someone's here to steal something. And considering this entire part of the garden is essentially, literally, bred to kill or otherwise incapacitate...

I run in the opposite direction of the small plume of smoke I can see rising up to the greenhouse's glass roof. If I was a thief, I would probably misdirect, right? That sounds like a safe assumption.

And if it's not, at least I'm as far as possible from a murder plant-seeking thief.

Only as I reach a small tree-like plant filled with vibrant red-orange flowers do I stop to wonder if maybe, if it actually is a thief, they might be after the healing properties of one of the plants here.

I'm out of breath from running, bend over with my hands on my knees when I hear the distinct sound of someone running.

In my direction.
Shit. I was banking on being wrong.

I'm about to duck underneath a table, take a shortcut to the next alley over where maybe I won't be seen. But as I crouch low, someone rounds the corner.

Their face is completely obscured. They're dressed all in black—not the best choice when surrounded by vibrant greenery but okay—and they have a bag slung over their shoulder. There's a nasty bruise already forming above their right eye, but what's most preoccupying is the black glove on their right hand.

I might not know what its intended use is, but even I can recognize a transmutation circle when I see one.

"Get away from there!," the would-be thief calls out at me. I can't help but be stunned by the youth in the voice. Probably younger than me.

"Listen, this is a bad idea," I start, but the thief is already kneeling to place a hand on the ground. The floor slowly bubbles a few feet in front of me. "We can help you!," is all I can get out before smoke—or is it steam?—bursts through the grey tiled floor in front of me.

I entirely expect to be engulfed in something and cover my face with my arms, but...

There's nothing.

I barely have time to register the fact that there's suddenly a wall in front of me when hands grab me from behind. The scream dies in my throat and I can physically feel the tension leaving my body when I'm turn to face Alphonse.

"Oh thank god—"

"We told you to run you idiot!"

Ed is a blur of red and black when he passes us. I don't know how he made it through or over that wall, but one second he's there and the next I can hear him shouting barely ten feet away.

"Come on, Anna, brother can handle this," Alphonse says, in a way I guess is meant to be reassuring. It would work infinitely better if his voice wasn't as shaky as I felt.

I let him drag me away. I look back only one to see another plume of smoke.

I can only hope nothing actually catches fire. They'd have to evacuate the next five blocks over.