OUR LIVES, CHAPTER 2: POPPY, TINKER AND NITWIT

By The Binary Alchemist, 2012

"Badges? I don't need a stinkin' badge to get on that flight. I'm an ELRIC!"

The girl at the East City Aerodrome ticket kiosk didn't even look up. "I'm sorry, sir. All alchemists requesting crew access to the Eastern Star must apply by mail 30 days before the scheduled flight. I will be glad to book you a government class ticket to Central if you'll produce your identification card."

"I told you. My bags are at the hotel. I caught a taxi straight from the station so I could make sure when the Star was departing for Central in the morning-"

"—and when you produce your identification I will be glad to punch a ticket for a government fare. However, without proper government identification I can only issue you a general fare ticket—"

"—look, I'll have the damn ID when I check in. I've flown on this crate dozens of times—hell, my brother designed it! Now, will you cut me some goddamn slack and—"

"-for a cost of 5,000 cenz. This covers up to maximum weight of 90 kilograms gross, including passenger and accompanying hand luggage. There will be a corresponding overage charge for any freight or checked baggage. Now, if you'd please step up on the scale, sir, I'll—"

"—take that scale and shove…ohhh, damn it. Forget it!" Ed snatched up his briefcase and stalked angrily away, cursing under his breath.

East City's weather in November may have been warmer than Central but the rain seeped just as quickly into Edward's shoes as he squelched through the puddles, his hair plastered to his cheeks and his glasses half fogged from the chill. It had been a long, long journey from the eastern kingdoms and the trans-desert railway took far too long. An airship would have been faster, but faster still would have been the flaming arrows launched by the Nihon Empire, still not altogether pleased with contact from the west, especially since Amestris was closely allied with Xing and Emperor Ling.

Nihon. Koryō. Siem. Tonkin. Anam. The Five Jewels, Ling called them, and at one point or another in their long bloody history Xing had been at war with all of them. Now, even as Roy labored to secure a lasting peace with Creta, Drachma, Ishbal and Aerugo, Xing was painstakingly working to reach non-aggression status with the Jewels. Xing was regarded…no, in truth, Xing had been an oppressor. It had been the mother of these small kingdoms. Their languages were similar and the Five Jewels still used the Xingese pinyin script. There were similarities in dress and cuisine and art-but in the last few centuries the aggression of the mother country had led to a certain ill feeling between the borders. For fifteen years Ling had made progress, often using Al as his ambassador, and when Nihon grudgingly invited a delegation of scientists to a summit at its Imperial Palace in the capital city of Aramashi-kyō Roy sent Edward as official envoy from Amestris.

And it was there in a dojo in Aramashi-kyō that Edward Elric had the living shit beaten out of him by a nine year old boy. Little shaven-headed tyke, 'knee high to a hiccup', as Havoc would say, bowed politely to the strange golden-haired foreigner and proceeded to throw him across the room as if he were one of Nina's old rag dolls. Thinking his timing had simply been a little off, Ed faced his opponent again and got bounced again. And again. And again. The little boy hadn't even broken a sweat, his eyes like twin pools of calm, dark water.

Later the dojocho—the students called him a sensei—offered him bitter tea and rice and sour plums and pleasantly explained to Edward that his defeat had nothing to do with his skills and everything with his mind. "Your anger defeats you, Elric-sama. The moment you face an opponent with the heated blood of anger you are already beaten."

"Who says I was angry?" Ed growled at the master.

"My student could read your body language," the old man replied calmly. "" You are restless and driven, Likely to attack full on. There is much, perhaps too much, of the metal element in your nature. "

Ed shook his head. "You don't know the half of it, Sir…."

That night as he soaked in a steaming bath, cool towel folded on his head, Ed looked up at the moon and said aloud, "damn it, Roy….you should be here. You should have seen that kid beat the snot out of me. You'd have died laughing."

He should have been at Ed's side watching the incredible fireworks in Koryō. Should have seen the impossibly delicate Siemese court dancers, towering spires of beaten gold adorning their heads and golden claws on their fingers long enough to make Lust envious. Should have been there when etiquette required that Ed eat that bowl of live, wriggling baby prawns and when the fresh octopus tentacles marinated in some fiery liquor crawled right up his chopstick and wrapped around his knuckles.

He should have smelled the delights of the spice market, watched the cool autumn moon rise over spindly pines with Ed in his arms while listening to the soft whisper of a bamboo flute. He should have seen the floating villages in Anam and Ed most certainly would have dared him to eat one of those fried spiders the old woman in Tonkin was hawking in the market, laughing at him when he was too intimidated to try a bite.

And the ocean. Alphonse had been right. There was nothing like it. Being unable to swim Ed didn't dare venture into its bitter waters but it was cool and smelled good and Ed wanted Roy to see it, would have stepped into its waters with him.

Fifteen years. He'd been spending half a year traveling. half a year at home with Roy, teaching at the Institute. Every season when he packed his bag he'd say, "When are you going to step down and go out on the road with me? The Parliament is pretty much running the show, y'know. And I know there's so much you want to see before you die." And Roy would tell him, "Eventually, Ed. When I know the country's stable and in good hands. I made a promise and I won't break it. But," he'd murmur into Edward's hair as he pulled his lover close, "I made a promise to you, too. We'll go. One of these days. I promise."

Now he was hanging his sodden clothes in the bath room of an East City hotel and even though his belly was rumbling with hunger he called home first.

"Hey, you!"

"Where are you?"

"I was late getting out of Resembool. Sara's birthday party, so I had to stay over last night. Can't believe she's fourteen. Already apprenticed herself to the local vet and she's studying up to work the lambing early this spring."

"How is Pinako?"

"She's….still with us. Sleeps a lot, although with five great grandkids storming all over the place I don't know how the hell she does it. Pitt keeps her comfortable and Winry promised to let us know if-when….you know."

"You taking the Star in the morning?"

Ed frowned. "Yeah. The ticket agent was being a real pain in the ass, but I'll get there around five—with my goddamn credentials—and we should be there early afternoon."

"What are you doing tonight?"

Ed glanced at the window. The rain had finally stopped. "Oh, go get some supper,…hit a few bookstores—"

"-maybe call back around eleven for some recreational conversation?" Roy purred.

There was a moment of silence. "Oh hell yes." His groin concurred, and his trousers became uncomfortably tight at the thoughts of the delights the night would hold, even if they were still hundreds of miles apart.

"Excellent. Now if you'll excuse me, I understand the 5:59 from Dublith has arrived. I've sent Colonel Hawkeye to the station to meet our daughter."

"Maes is too good to go meet his sister?" Ed demanded.

"The boy genius is currently locked in his research lab with the perennial 'Do Not Disturb Or It Will Be Your Ass' sign taped to the door."

"You've alerted the medics?"

"On call, as we speak. Hopefully he'll be out of traction by the time you get home."

Ed gritted his teeth. That boy…"If I come home and find out he's blown anything up," he threatened, "I'll put him in traction myself…."

###

"Fuhrer Mustang!" The newest secretary rounded the corner and burst into Roy's office as soon as the blast concussion rumbled away, leaving a smoking hole where a tiny chemistry lab used to be on the Hohenheim Institute campus. "Sir! There's been an accident…I'm so sorry sir, but your son….I think your son has been killed!"

"Again?"

Field binoculars in hand, Roy took a quick glance outside his office window. Several yards outside the blast impact he could see a blond figure in a smoking lab coat. It stirred. For a moment, Roy closed his eyes and gave silent thanks.

He turned briskly to the woman who was panting and trembling at having brought such horrible news to the leader of her country. "Alert the infirmary. If he doesn't report on his own feet in twenty minutes have him checked out."

"SIR?"

Sheska patted her shoulder. "You must be new around here…."

###

A high-buttoned shoe poked at the body in the smoking rubble. The young man didn't stir.

"He's dead all right." The voice was calm, cultured and now craftily conspiratorial. "Excellent. Aunt Riza, you grab his wallet while I get his car keys—"

A sooty hand shot up, grabbed a trim ankle and yanked—and Professor Nina Elric landed hard on her oh so elegant bottom. She swatted her brother with her umbrella. "You shit."

"Ah-ah-ah! Temper, temper, Nitwit! A lady of quality never besmirches her lips with foul language—"

"-I'll besmirch your lips with my fist! Where the he—where the blazes were you? You were supposed to meet me at the station!" She righted herself and adjusted her hat. "You were going to buy me ice cream. Elycia's expecting us down at Il Gattina."

Her brother groaned a little as she yanked him into a sitting position. He felt for cracked ribs and was relieved that the only thing seriously injured was his pride. "Sorry, Nitwit! Got some fuel equations from Pyotir and-"

"—immediately started mucking around in your lair and blew the fu—fudge out of all that new equipment and set your hair on fire."

"My hair? SHIT!" Maes Urey Elric slapped a frantic hand to the back of his neck. His heavy blond braid was singed but still intact save for a few inches at the end. "Don't scare me like that! Can't be a proper Elric male without a ponytail."

"Or a score of bandages and scars and, if you keep going at this rate, a few replacement automail limbs. Mom will brain you if you blow any of your bits off."

"Nahhh…but she'll charge me double and send the bill to Dad for being a bad influence—so let's not set our folks at each other's throats and forget it."

Nina reached up and gently straightened her brother's lab goggles. "Tinker, you're looking well—under all the scorch marks and the dirt, that is."

Her brother wasn't buying it. "If you're about to wheedle me into borrowing my car, you can forget it. You going up to see Uncle Roy, hoof it or take a cab."

She gave him her most beguiling smile. "Now, Tinker—"

"Now, nothing—keep your filthy alchemist's gloves off my baby! It's the only gasoline powered Elricmobile on the roads in the world-"

"—which certainly explains the rising death toll I've seen in the papers-"

"—it's going to be a standard, just you wait! Besides, I gotta clean up." He dug in his pocket and handed the surprised Colonel several bills. "Do me a favor and call a cab so Miss Snooty McElegant doesn't get her over priced skirts muddy or scuff her boots. Why the hell you can't wear a decent miniskirt like Mom did at your age-or is that too 19th century?"

"Gilded Age Revival is the latest fashion and you know it—"

"—and you've got enough steel in that stupid corset to bounce bullets off your boobs—if you had any, that is."

The umbrella whacked him again, a little harder this time. Nina stood up on her tiptoes, kissed her brother on the ear, whispered "go fuck yourself!" and stomped off to find a cab, Hawkeye scurrying after her.

"Wait—you're going the wrong way!" The cab had made a u-turn and was heading back towards town.

"No we're not. There's something I want to show you, Nina. Something Major Havoc and I saw last night at the bookstore. Something that is going to upset your father very much."

"Which one?" Nina's eyes danced with mischief. " I have four of them, you know." Although Edward was her biological parent, Nina and Maes considered Roy, Sig Curtis and Pitt Renback as fathers, too. To avoid confusion, she referred to her stepfather as Uncle Pitt, Sig as Poppa, Edward as Dad or Daddy, and for some peculiar reason affectionately addressed the Fuhrer as Poppy. The one term she never used was 'father'. She knew her family's history in full, gruesome detail and knew Ed would find it very disturbing to be called by that moniker.

There was a long, thoughtful silence as the seventeen year old studied the flyer for the offensive tell-all in the bookstore window. "Right," Nina said decisively. "I suppose I'll have to kill her."

Cognac eyes darted towards the young prodigy. Anyone else might have been joking, but this was an Elric talking. An exceptionally brilliant and articulate Elric, but a young and hot tempered one in spite of all her elegant manners and outward maturity. She had the bearing of a young academic and a woman of fashion, but beneath it all she was keeping herself on a very tight leash, and instinctively wanted to shove her silk umbrella up Kelley Winchell's rectum point first—and then open it. "I hope you're joking."

Chestnut brows knit together. "Well, unless I want to add 'criminal genius' to my list of professional accolades, I've got to think of something. You'll notice when it's coming out."

"The Fuhrer's birthday. Same night as the gala."

"Tell me that's a coincidence." Her fingers tugged unconsciously at the cuffs of her fine kid gloves, artfully embroidered with her own alchemic array. "You've told Poppy?"

Hawkeye shook her head. "Havoc and I have been trying to find out more about this. I remember when her book on Fuhrer Grumman came out. "

"Shortly before he left office. Allegations of sexual misconduct and fraternization with young female officers-which Auntie Rebecca says was spot-on factual. What kind of dirt do you think she has on Poppy—I mean, that hasn't already come to the surface? Surely not that dreary rubbish about Uncle Maes. If Aunt Gracy's not upset, why the fu—devil—should anyone else give a da—curse—about it?"

"That's what I intend to find out," Hawkeye answered grimly.

A gloved finger lifted to correct her. "That's what WE intend to find out…."

###

"Take it down."

"Sir?"

Edward adjusted his glasses and fixed the clerk with a cold topaz glare. "I said take it down." He jerked his chin in the general direction of the poster behind the cash register at Bounder's Books and News. "It's offensive."

The manager took a step forward, gently pushing his checkout clerk out of the way. "It's freedom of the press. One of the rights confirmed by Parliament shortly after Fuhrer Mustang was inducted into office. Freedom of the press and freedom of speech. Very essential amendments to the National Constitution of 1920—agreed, Mr, Elric?"

He was right, damn it. Take away the right to free speech and free press and you had—

-you had a Military Dictatorship. You had the Bradley Regime.

And Roy Mustang would be the last dictator of Amestris, if Roy really meant to follow through with his plans.

"I'll pay you back when this country becomes a democracy!"

Ed dug in his pocket. "Tell you what. I'll buy it off you for…520 cenz. How 'bout it?"

"We'll bring another one from the back."

"I figured you would."

"Still want to buy it?"

Twenty minutes later he was back at the hotel, shoveling sweet and sour chicken and fried egg rolls in his mouth as he thumbed through a copy of "Conduct Unbecoming: the Grumman Files". It nearly made him gag. Not that Ed was any great judge of literature, but if the woman's insinuating prose was any oilier he could have lubricated an engine with it. "This isn't a book, it's a demolition job." Not to say that some of it…well…a lot of it might have been true, but still….Ed seriously doubted the old goat had gone as far as he was accused in the tome.

Worse than the sexual innuendo was the outright accusations that Grumman was complicit in the escape of the infamous Old Guard, the disjointed band of Bradley insiders who had made life hell for Roy and nearly assassinated him on at least three occasions. One of them had actually shot Roy, wounding him in the shoulder before Hawkeye blew the man's head to bits. Of course she had then gotten all traumatized over Roy being hurt and broke down and offered to resign and Roy had yelled at her so hard and so long that Dr. Knox had threatened to sedate him.

"Grumman let the Old Guard out free? Bullshit," Ed mumbled around a mouthful of rice. "I can't believe anybody with half a brain would actually buy this shit."

But buy it they did and read it they did-and the scandal that followed led to a Parliamentary Investigation, a military investigation-and an early retirement for General Grumman.

But it wasn't like there was much the people didn't know about Roy, was there? "Old man Edison leaked a lot to that worm-fucker Charles Foster of the Central Times—just before blowing half his head off." Roy had screwed with Maes Hughes. Roy was rumored to have had a breakdown after the war and used opiates and alcohol to kill the pain-yeah, there was a measure of truth, but nothing he had taken had been without medical supervision and he'd conquered his personal demons after his return to Ishbal.

"What the hell else IS there, that some bleach blonde busybody could use against Roy and make stick?"

He glared at the tattered remains of the poster which he had childishly ripped up and tossed in the waste basket. "Who are you, lady?"

###

"Where's my Wroy?"

Roy glanced up from his paperwork. He smiled. "Right here where you left him," he answered gently, his face relaxing into an unguarded smile.

She rushed through the door, dignity forgotten, arms outstretched. He met her half way, folding her tightly against his chest as he had when she was tiny enough to curl up in his arms and listen to him read her bedtime stories. "Poppy…I missed you so much!"

Roy pressed his cheek against her tumbled hair, hiding the emotion on his face. "It was rather dull with you gone so long in Aerugo. I wasn't sure you'd be coming back. You seemed so fond of life at court and studying abroad."

"It's not home," Nina murmured against his shoulder. "It's not you and Daddy and Maes and everybody." There was a slight quaver in her voice and Roy drew back a little to study her face.

She was grown now, at least by Amestrian standards. How odd it seemed to him. For fifteen years they were still children, then miraculously a child turns sixteen and becomes a legal adult. At least, they THINK they're grown, he reminded himself. His little girl had learned the hard way what it was like to have a prodigy's mind in a child's body. A faded scar on her forehead, covered by her hair, still made him angry, recalling the children in the school in Dublith who threw rocks at her in the school yard, calling this precious child a freak because of her exceptional intelligence. She was laughed at, shoved, tormented and spat on. The rock that caught her in the forehead was the final straw. Maes had gone into a blind fury, punching and kicking every kid in sight and screaming "don't you touch my sister!". It took two teachers to hold Maes back and five to hold Izumi back when she saw her grandchild's bloody forehead. The wound was superficial—the damage went deeper than anyone ever knew.

Ed had been in Creta, and Winry was giving birth to Pitt's second child. Roy took matters into his own hands. With Izumi and Sig's blessing he brought Maes and Nina to Central. A private tutor was found, an alchemist named Judah who had once worked for a great family who had perished in a fire at their estate. Judah was blind, his face dreadfully disfigured, but he was gentle with the children, delighted to feed such eager little minds. He had met Edward and Alphonse in their younger days and in spite of the weight of his years he was glad to take the position. Ed, Izumi and Winry all agreed that, for the time being, Judah would be a fine tutor—however it was not the answer. "I don't want the children isolated," Winry admitted. "Isn't there a school somewhere for kids like ours?"

There hadn't been. Within a year there was. The Hohenheim Academy welcomed the academically and artistically gifted as part of the Institute and the Collegium of Alexandria, with children from five countries on the waiting list. Judah spent his last years as headmaster and was buried on the grounds, greatly loved and well remembered. The fact that he was sightless and scarred was a reminder to the students that outward appearances or physical ability were nothing to judge a person by. At the Academy, Nina and Maes and hundreds of children like them were nurtured and guided and mentored by the Institute's students, By the time the Elric children had graduated—Nina two years before her older brother—most of the old terrors were gone, although Nina acquired the habit of dressing and behaving older than her years. Now seventeen, she might have been dressed as elegantly as a woman in her twenties but the sight of her beloved 'Poppy' her affectations were forgotten and she clung to him like a child, lonely and so very very glad to be home.

"When are you making the announcement about the democracy initiative?"

Roy stirred his coffee thoughtfully. "The evening of that damnable gala they insist on throwing in my honor." He glanced at the clock. Maes was out of the infirmary, and Gracia and Elycia would be coming for supper in an hour. "It's time for a half-century of military dictatorship—however well meant—to come to an end. That's what I promised your father and Hughes. It's what I've worked for all my adult life."

"So what will you do when you retire, then?"

Roy blinked in surprise. "Retire?"

"You're the last appointed Fuhrer of Amestris. If the government is going to be civilian with elected officials, you'd have to step down, right? You can't go on running the country as the Fuhrer or everything you're telling the people will mean nothing…or hadn't that occurred to you?" She nibbled a ginger biscuit. "And Aunt Riza will have to find something else to do. After all, once you're retired, you and Daddy won't need her following you around for the rest of your lives, right?"

His Excellency, Fuhrer President Roy Mustang stared at his lover's child. For one of the few times in his life he was absolutely speechless.

…..TO BE CONTINUED…