A sudden and hot pain bloomed in Envy's chest, red on the insides of their eyelids, red like their burning stone heart, where the pain was coming from. In the back of their tongue and throat they tasted iron, thick and warm, and lines of spastic numbness shot through their hands and thighs and belly like the cracking of a whip. They were sure they made a sound, but whether it was a gasp or a growl they didn't know, the hearing from their left ear had been removed and replaced by a high, clear ringing, it distracted them.
"Apologies," said the wiseman (the alchemist, or whatever they called it here) but he made no gesture to remove the thin, 15-inch needle he had inserted into their core, the thing that had caused the shock in the first place. He did, however, record their reaction on his parchment- or at least, that's what they thought he was doing, they couldn't read the sharp and boxlike characters that was the writing of Xing, so they lost interest in it quickly. It did nothing to distract them from the pain.
Their eyes drifted across the room in search of something to hold on to, the patterned silk drapes or the delicately painted vases and bowls and sleek wood surfaces where the scientists laid out their tools, the powders and poisons and slender pins for stretching, the nerve-racking needles, the tip of one such device where it entered their chest. No, they wrenched their gaze up to the ceiling instead, they hated seeing that, it made them nauseous to see their own skin peeled back and held open by delicate metal jaws, made them feel insecure to have their heart physically bared to the world, its red light reflecting in the silver metal and on the pale cheek of the old man who attended them, his white robe. What conclusions did he draw from this? They had no idea. He was bolder than most- now, he adjusted the angle of the needle in their core with a small measuring device (it looked something like a protractor, but not quite) and though that corrected the numbness and the ringing in their ear it also hurt, pain the colour of snow flashing across their skin, and at the feeling they snarled.
They would like to kill this one, now, if they could.
They thought he rather sensed it- for a second the alchemist's composure waivered, his clinical chill and vague arrogance cracking, the way a dogmaster's would when one of his wards turned to bear teeth on him. This man could think he was in charge- and in truth, he was- but he could do nothing if they decided to rip his head off there and then, as they were or otherwise, with human jaws or bear paws or dragon claws. Make him suffer, the way they liked, they way they used to. The way they were suffering now. Oh, how much fun that would be.
But they wouldn't get away with it. He would be very upset with them, and they would probably end up suffering even more.
Though, they could let the threat of it hover in the air, teeth slightly bared so he could see their points, white fingers digging into the finely carven wood on the armrests of the chair they sat upon, liable at any second to crack the antique craftsmanship and render it unrecognizable. A lie, the thought that they could do anything they wanted, but usually a convincing one to people like this. And even if they couldn't really do anything, they enjoyed watching the humans squirm.
The rest of the session was done with more care, the experiments less invasive and aimed at less sensitive sections of their core, and they liked how the muscles in the alchemist's jaw clenched ever so slightly whenever they expressed discomfort, now put off balance, unable to hide that he was afraid.
And even though he was (comparatively) gentle, it was still a tremendous relief when he drew the needle out, the metal slid from their body with a faint, wet noise, and with it all of their muscles naturally relaxed, discomforts they hadn't been aware of slipping away like a veil, tension vanishing to replace itself with dull after-aches. How they hated this, being poked and prodded at like a strange animal born with two heads or three eyes, their heart made into a pincushion and their energies measured like raindrops in a glass. An experiment, a subhuman, so very different from what they had been before, when they had been the one standing outside the cage. And for whose benefit was all this?
The alchemist- alkhamest? whatever, who fucking cares- took a little too long packing up his equipment and Envy said something very vicious to him to make him leave, anything to hurry it up. There was a very deep ache inside that they couldn't get at- unlike an itch or a cramp, it was too far inside to be soothed. They wanted to be alone. They were always so tired when these sessions were over with, and when he was gone it was a relief to curl into themself on the chair, pressing cold flesh to cold flesh, and close their eyes as though they would fall asleep. As they were now they were entirely "naked" (no fabricated clothes to disguise white skin, to make pretend modesty), with only long spines of dark green hair to cover them, not, of course, that there was anything there to really cover. When not prompted otherwise they left their body with an anatomy closer to that of a shop mannequin than a full human being of either sex, it felt cleaner to them, and more comfortable, though before they would have had no reason to think about the implications of nudity at all…
The door to the gilded chamber where Envy rested was opened again, they heard it, and sighed. They could feel a bit of a headache starting between their temples, and their stone was sensitive in their chest, having been treated too roughly. They didn't want to deal with this right now- and, as the new visitor had made no introduction, they knew exactly who it was.
Or at least, they knew he was one of two people, and there was a roughly 50/50 chance right now of either. Like weather, those two were, the probability of storms or sunshine changed with the signs of the day and the language of the clouds. But Envy didn't want to go outside at all right now, regardless of the state of the sky.
A hand came down gently on the top of their head, a gesture for a pet.
"Something the matter, little beansprout?"
The Emperor it was, then.
They unfolded their arms a little to look at him, they were sure their expression was resentful, but they were too tired to try and school it in any other direction.
"I hate this," they said, gesturing vaguely to the room around them, and though they had told him this often their voice held none of the usual venom. They were just explaining, after all, there was no sense in getting angry over something that wouldn't change.
Ling smiled at them with warm black eyes, patting their head again, letting his fingers trail a little through their hair.
"It's the only way to satisfy the court and you know it," he said cheerfully, his voice pitched so it fell almost in song. "We can't have them experimenting on us, after all." A royal we, but not exactly, not in this case.
"And besides, it's a small price to pay, wouldn't you say?"
The same old argument as before, the same argument they had heard every day since the little princess had brought them here in the jar, since the new Emperor of Xing- and, though this was a somewhat-kept secret, their older brother- had ascended to his throne, since the Promised Day had failed and fallen to ashes and everything had broken apart like shapes made of sand between fingers. It was a small price to pay, said the court and Xing's hungry scientists, for the life of the corrupted worm, for having the thing restored to strength and given comforts and a place to stay in a world that otherwise did not want it. Envy's only value in life, as became clearer the longer they lived, was in their unnatural traits and abilities- whether to use them or try and understand them, no one wanted them around for anything else. And why would they? Jealousy was the ugliest human emotion. It served no good purpose in the wider world. It never had.
So they made no attempt to reply to his comment, any words that could have formed on their lips died before they could even be born in their mind. They found their gaze drawn to one of the vases in the corner, a thing of delicate china marked with a lotus pattern. It wasn't especially pretty, and they didn't even really like it, but it was inanimate and at eye-level and they didn't want to have to interact with Ling at all. They were hoping, vaguely, that he would leave and they would get sent back to their room, where they could go to sleep for a long, long time.
Because of this they didn't notice him move, and were a little startled when he dropped some fabric over their head, the discarded dress he liked to make them wear, instead of clothes of their own making and material. It was threaded in traditional Xing fashion and of dark red silk, apparently to complement their hair, and dragons of gold pleat thrashed across its surface. Not an ugly thing, but they would always be more comfortable in their own skin than anything of human design.
"Do get dressed. I want to see you at dinner tonight, alright?" chirped the Emperor, and Envy pulled the thing on slowly to manage the pain in their chest, and when they swept their hair up and out from under the high collar it was only with a twist of their lips downward, as the movement made air catch uncomfortably in their lungs. Dinner was a few hours from now- at least they could take a little nap before then.
That night they didn't end up going to dinner, after all. They had slept right through it- not that it was their fault, really, they were just so tired. The world, though Xing was extravagant and beautiful in its cultural decor, was gray to their eyes. Upon collapsing on the huge, soft bed in the Emperor's chambers (a thing that had been reinforced, more than once, to carry the weight of a monster) their eyes had closed almost unwillingly, the huge weight that they had been holding off all day finally fell upon them, a black boulder that consumed them entirely.
Though they barely remembered this, they had dreamed of falling into the floor, and sinking down to the center of the earth, where there was nothing. No life force, like a human heart, or their own aching core- just nothing. It had been a comforting dream.
They woke now to a change in the atmosphere- the bed dipped off to one side, they felt it as they stirred, and before their eyes could open there was a hand on their shoulder. A warm hand. Most people had warm hands. Envy was only ever cold. Pray tell, the forecast for today.
"How are you doing, babydoll?"
Storms. Envy didn't care.
Greed tugged at them, and it was easier to roll over onto their back than to refuse him, like water following the path of least resistance upstream. After one more second of black luxury, they opened their eyes to see him.
Greed was always recognizable, even in the body of the prince. His being contorted those smooth features, made a dagger of a grin that would otherwise have been a sliver of moonshine, burned blackness until it turned purple. Purple, like Envy's eyes, and they would once have thought 'like everyone', but now everyone was dead.
"You missed dinner," Greed said, and he climbed on top of them, his whole body solid and present and warm. Already wanting- for all he ever did was want- those burning hands made their way around their waist, then lower, squeezing the flesh of their thighs. They didn't care that they'd missed dinner. They weren't hungry. They were never hungry, neither they nor Greed needed to eat, only one of them had ever been hungry and he was long gone.
Greed- unable, probably, to help himself- cupped their cheek in one hand and moved in to kiss them, long and hot and deep, he burned in comparison to their own skin, which was always cold. Lizard skin.
An invasive thought occurred- they were an animal for experimenting on.
Something changed, and Greed pulled away, a new colour in his eyes. Why had he stopped kissing them? He never stopped. Had they done something wrong? What was that there in his face, that looked like weak human concern? They must be mistaking it. He had no reason to be caring, Envy had lost and he had won, and look at where they were now.
"What's the matter, baby?"
They looked at him for a little too long, the response was slow for some reason, their whole brain felt sluggish and flat. It seemed too much effort to say anything back to him, it was pointless.
"Nothing," they said after a few too many seconds, and Greed's expression shifted again but to what they didn't know. Had he changed, Greed, when they weren't looking? Had something happened to him? He had been gone from Father's side for so long. He had never come back to them. Even during the endgame, when everyone was dying, he had never come back.
Ah, they had enjoyed very much watching him die in the pot of lava. That had pleased them so much, it had lit a fire in every part of their body, why couldn't they remember what that felt like now? To be so out of control, high on their own power. To laugh so hard it hurt-
Something must actually be wrong, they realized just then. This wasn't right. Nevermind Greed, something must have happened to them, their whole body felt so heavy, everything seemed so bleak, they didn't understand-
They opened their mouth like they wanted to articulate this, but they didn't know how, and for some reason Greed seemed to understand anyway.
"Did those fuckers mess something up inside?" he growled, somewhere between mischievous and protective. In the instant he reached the end of the sentence he took hold of the soft fabric of Envy's dress and ripped it, splitting it wholly in two, exposing their bare chest, which now was as white and featureless as the rest of them. Something about that made a very distant part of their mind jump to attention, but it didn't make it all the way up to the surface, a bubble held deep under black waters.
Greed put his hand on their chest, like he was feeling for a heartbeat, and grimaced.
"Yeah, that's not right," he muttered. "You can feel it, can't you? Something's out of place, isn't it, darling?"
Now that Envy thought about it, they kind of could, there was a sense of dimness coming from inside, the source of the weight. It was like there was a room full of lanterns, one room to light an entire mansion- but half of the doors leading to that room were shut, leaving the surrounding corridors darkened. Was this why they were so tired? Half of their being was still asleep, in a dream of the empty insides of the earth.
"No matter," Greed said, and he licked his lips, and that thing deep inside Envy squirmed again, and they realized that they would have liked this kind of attention, before. They would have liked this kind of attention from anyone.
A blackness purer than any night sky covered Greed's hand, the one with his marker, and he lifted the point of his index finger to the hollow between Envy's collarbones (the make-believe ones, anyway). They knew what was going to happen, and underneath that exhausted feeling there was a white kind of electricity, something that should have been much more intense. Greed was not the ultimate spear, but he could make himself sharp enough.
The skin from Envy's torso to navel split easily, a pair of red lips opened in the stocky pretend-muscle, and the feeling made them shiver all over. Without intending to, they whimpered. The urge to seal the thing back up again instantly was latent- that wave of healing magic didn't come. They were suddenly vulnerable here, like a dying dog with their belly sliced open- no, there was a better analogy than that. They were like themself, like they were truly, helpless and paralyzed with a gaping mouth running all the way down their body, only now they didn't even have any teeth. They hated it. They liked it a lot. Why hadn't they tried to stop him?
Greed's thumbs dug in and peeled the wound open further, something like blood welling up and spilling over, and Envy wanted to touch him but they couldn't move. Was that genuine, or just a feeling? They didn't know.
"Here we are," he said softly, and Envy knew what he meant, they could see their own heart reflected in his eyes. They wanted to cry. They wanted to kiss him again.
"And yes, I think I see the problem," Greed murmured. "This is just slightly...out of...place."
Envy had an image of a ball joint sitting outside its socket, and then Greed touched them, oh! His fingers, so very warm, pushed gently against the gleaming stone in their chest, and they felt it in a way they had never felt anything. No one had ever touched them there before, not like that. With the Xing scientists it was always removed- cold metal in the place of hot flesh. And they would never have let anyone near, not ever before, not even that one time when they had offered it up to the FullMetal Pipsqueak to escape their dead brother's stomach, they had guarded it jealously. This was so unlike anything, anything ever before.
Envy moaned without meaning to, feeling Greed's fingers circle their heart a few times, and he laughed under his breath.
"You're beautiful like this," he said, and they opened their eyes again to look at his face, it was lit by their insides and soft with what could have been adoration. But Greed couldn't adore Envy, that wasn't right, was it? Yet he was looking at them- looking right at them, directly at the thing that made them everything they were, hell, touching it- and he didn't turn away. He didn't make a move to mock them for their weakness, didn't laugh at them, call them pathetic or ugly. He would have, once. What could have changed? Envy didn't know.
Because of this, they suddenly hated him, but it was still a pale hate compared to that which they reserved for themself.
Greed seemed fascinated by them like this, the expression on his face so open, somehow sweet. They didn't know if they should doubt their own perceptions- they had always been good at reading human emotions, they needed to be in order to replicate them. But they must be wrong, now, they must have lost their touch, or maybe they were going crazy. Anything like that, it didn't matter what, but they couldn't be understanding this right. Just then, it looked a little like Greed might love them, and that was impossible.
"Stop playing and fix it," they said, and it was such a huge effort to get the words out that they were born half-strangled, weak, not as commanding as Envy would have liked. They were so pathetic, weren't they? Yet the usual disgust and shame that bit them during these times was dampened by the look on Greed's face.
If it was him (this they found themself thinking) that saw them this way, it somehow wasn't so bad. It was almost nice, how he touched them there. There was a war in their head between despair and pleasure, they didn't know how to hold themself when they were so vulnerable.
"Alright, alright," Greed said, a smile on his lips still, and he pushed against their core, a motion of down and up- instantly, the world was alight again, there was a tremendous pain followed by a wave of brightly coloured sensation, things they hadn't even realized were dulled sharpening into focus. They were sure they cried out.
Greed removed his hand from their chest and they sealed it again, one wave of lightning leaving it as smooth and flawless as before. They were shaking much harder than before, breathing heavy, though there was no reason for them to do so.
"Better?" Greed asked, and his grin was so smug and self satisfied they instantly wanted to destroy him, and before they could think about it they kicked him hard enough to send him flying across the room.
"I HATE IT!" they shrieked, their voice deepening in their chest and the tips of their fingers turning green. "I HATE WHAT THEY DO TO ME!"
There were other things they wanted to say- I hate this place, I hate wearing real clothes, I hate you, I hate myself, I hate being vulnerable and I hate that you were gentle with me. None of these made it out individually, instead they all melted together into one monstrous roar, wordless because pure emotion of any kind could only ever be wordless. When they had no air left in their lungs they just sat on the bed and stared, and Greed stood up to brush himself off, laughing under his breath, like it didn't matter.
"Okay, cutie," he said, and they glared at him, but it didn't work, it never did. When was the last time he had been truly angry with them, had treated them cruelly, like before? They couldn't remember. He had gone away and never come back again, this Greed was such a different one from the thing in Envy's memories. He wasn't watching them just then- his eyes had gone out of focus, frowning slightly, a sure sign he was talking to the other man living inside his head.
"We'll stop the experiments for a while," he said slowly. "They're clearly wearing you out. You need some time to recover…"
Envy growled again, a sound too deep to come naturally from the chest they gave themself now, but they were interrupted by a sharp knocking on the bedroom doors.
"Your majesty?" a human voice called, muffled by the wood.
"Come in," said Greed- no, that wasn't Greed. Like an optical illusion, those two were, with just a turn of the head the image changed, leaving the viewer dizzy. Ling held himself straighter than Greed, his shoulders pulled back, princely. His smile was not as savage.
The voice from beyond the door entered- a man, dressed in servants clothing, round and soft looking, with dewy skin.
"We heard- something- from in here," he said, stilted, his eyes flickered like they wanted to look at Envy (who was still naked, fangs half-bared on the bed) but couldn't, for propriety or fear, or something. "Is everything alright?"
Ling laughed, and it was such a clear sound in comparison to Greed's voice, like the ringing of a single bell. "Everything is lovely, thank you! I was playing with my dragon. No need for concern."
Envy squirmed inside at that, but the servant quickly bowed out, relieved he was to go, of course. When the door was shut they went back to glaring at Ling, who just smiled, smug and satisfied, like a goose sitting on a golden egg.
"Why did you call me that?" they grumbled. Their insides were twisting about as always, looking for a way to feel inferior, to desire to be something else. Xing's dragons were beautiful, fluid creatures with scales like gemstones and pearls of wisdom under their chins; they swirled through the air like a strip of cloth in the hand of a ribbon dancer. Envy couldn't live up to a name like that.
"Dragons are a symbol of power here in Xing," Ling said, now closing the distance between them. "Are you not the same? My charming pet dragon."
He kissed their forehead lightly, and then their lips, running quick fingers down their hair.
"Now," he continued, and his voice held just a hint of a slightly different timbre, and when Envy looked his eyes seemed both deeper and lighter, more than one colour held to the surface, like layers of stained glass overlapping. Two souls speaking as one.
"...let's finish what we started."