CHAPTER 32: A PRESIDENTIAL WEDDING

By The Binary Alchemist 2013

I'm not doing this because of any goddamn superstition. I'm doing this so Winry will shut up and quit nagging me about seeing Roy on my wedding day. Gathering up his clothing and shoes, Ed slipped quietly out of the master bedroom and down the hall to get dressed in the Nihonese bath, relatively certain that nobody was using or abusing the room at four o'clock in the morning.

He was wrong.

"ED!" His Excellency the Emperor of Xing was in the tub, wreathed in steam and waving what looked like a half-gnawed pork chop in one hand. The other hand was fondling the bountiful bare breast of a woman Ed did not immediately recognize through the haze. "Felicitations on your wedding day-and meet my newest wife!"

"Hiya, Mistah Edward!"

"GLADYS?!"

###

Winry poured Ed another cup of coffee in the dining room, set up as a breakfast buffet owing to the large number of house guests. She patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Does anything Ling does surprise you? Really, Ed!"

"My eyes….my eyes…" her ex-husband groaned dramatically. "Ling…and Gladys Turlough….naked…eating pork chops—in MY bath! And the crazy son of a bitch says he married her?"

"Just for the weekend," Mei Chang pointed out, adding honey to her morning tea. "He can do that, you know. Marriage and divorce is a simple thing if you are the Emperor. In return, Miss Turlough can claim the title of Princess and if he gets a child with her-"

Ed stuck his fingers in his ears. "Not hearing this-definitely not hearing this!"

Glancing over Ed's head, Mei Chang tugged urgently at his sleeve. "Roy's coming! Quick, you have to leave now!"

"Huh?"

"Get moving! It is very bad luck for a bride to be seen-" Realizing her gaffe, the alkahestry master slapped her hands over her mouth. "I—I mean—"

"Bride." Edward spat out the word as if he had bitten into something nasty. "Did…you…say…BRIDE, Mei?" He shot poisonous looks at everyone in the dining room—and half the people immediately began focusing on shoveling down their breakfasts. "Am I to understand," his voice was beginning to rise in volume and intensity, "that people are somehow thinking I am somehow the…the-"

"—underdog." Al suggested.

"—whatever!" Ed growled, "—in this relationship?" His coffee cup hit the table with a loud bang. "IF you're gonna go there—and you damn well better not—you better have some good reason to make an assumption like that."

"I'd say," Ruby purred maliciously, "it should be based on who was on top last time you guys did it."

Every mouth in the room dropped open.

Ed gave her a poisonous smile of triumph. "Well….if last night is anything to judge-you can throw the white veil over the goddam vib—never mind!" Turning on Winry, he added, "and no, we did not fuck last night…technically. You were the one running around all 'ooh, Ed! You don't want bad luck on your wedding day!' So-no harm, no foul…AND EVERYBODY JUST SHUT THE HELL UP, ALL RIGHT?"

###

"You've got it?"

"Right here."

Maes nearly tore the zipper out of the tailor's delivery bag and frantically inspected each garment, worried that if everything wasn't just so, Roy would say to hell with it and change into his dress uniform.

He sighed noisily in relief. "Perfect. Just damn perfect."

Collins lifted an eyebrow. "Of course you take credit for this."

"Everything depends on this suit's perfection." Maes' hand swept over the deep lapis waistcoat, crisply tailored to flatter Roy's trim figure, peeking out from the dark charcoal cutaway coat that managed to look both presidential and in the height of fashion. A white wing-collar shirt would be set off with a black silk cravat. Stick pin and cufflinks in lapis made for him by Nina, engraved with his array in gold. A single red rose as a boutonnière, which Collins artfully attached to the left hand lapel, and-

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

The President of Amestris stepped out of the bathroom clad in nothing but a fresh shave, a very skimpy towel around his hips and a scowl on his handsome face that should have warned Maes that the Rose Hill fire insurance premiums were about to go up. A silver pocket watch snapped shut in his hand and Collins took a discreet step backwards. He would proudly take a bullet for his lover but had no intention of being incinerated.

Maes just grinned. "You got plenty of time, Pops. It's only a quarter to nine. Collins and I will get you dressed and then I'll jump in the shower while you have some coffee—oh, and Dad is over in the guest wing. Nina and Uncle Al are helping him get ready. Annnnd—" he dug into his pocket, "-before you ask-got the ring right here. And, " another flourish, "here's the pen to sign the registry. I've also got a flask of brandy if you need a shot of courage, and Collins has a pistol if you decide you just can't go through with it."

Roy frowned. "My waistcoat and cravat were pearl grey. What the hell is this?"

"Nina's veto." A sunny grin countered Roy's irritation. "C'mon, she picked it out for you. She said the grey was too severe. I think it's pretty sharp, personally. And it goes well with the tie stickpin and cufflinks she made you."

Roy snatched the suit out of his stepson's hands. "Fine. Whatever." He stalked into the bedroom and slammed the door behind him. Maes gave Collins a thumbs-up. "Get the beast some coffee before he tears our heads off. You got my suit? I'll dress in the bathroom."

"And ruin a perfectly starched linen suit? Not on your life. You can dress in here."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" the younger man leered.

Collins gave him a look of wry exasperation. "If your masculine endowment was in comparable size to your ego, Maes Elric, you'd trip over it."

That earned Collins a playful punch to the shoulder. "You wish."

###

"This ain't no 'small family wedding', Gracia." A reporter from Central Times waved her down as she arrived with Elycia, looking lovely in a soft buttercup yellow, perfect for early spring. "We've got the bloody emperor of Xing here, for goodness sake! We've got military brass and scientists and alchemists and-"

"-all of whom are personal friends of the family," she soothed. "Edward wanted a private family wedding and President Mustang knew that most people would expect a formal state wedding. There are still only two hundred people here, Bill. For a Presidential wedding, that's still rather intimate. A morning wedding and a lovely luncheon under these beautiful ancient oak trees here in the parkland at Rose Hill—" she gestured to the beautiful 200-year old garden lovingly landscaped by the Tringham brothers." –with everything in bloom…I don't think they could have chosen a lovelier site, do you?"

It was not a good idea, Roy decided, to opt for an ostentatious gala. The last thing he wanted was grumbling in the Parliament or in the streets about wasting taxpayer's money on a big splashy wedding. Besides, he agreed with Ed: a wedding was a private event for family and friends. Therefore the decoration was kept to a minimum, letting the splendor of the springtime speak for itself, as natural and unadorned as possible.

Tringham's team of alchemists had worked wonders, gently coaxing early blooms among the roses and trees and flowering hedges, and the pavilion on the main green and all the tables were decorated by fresh greenery, glossy ferns and a riot of fresh flowers of every shade imaginable. The effect was rustic and charming, and in keeping with the season. The natural music of the fountains, bird song and the cooing of Princess Elena's doves and the whisper of a fresh morning breeze in the branches overhead was enhanced by soft notes from a harpist, punctuated now and again by the distant whinnying of horses and the bleating of the sheep who had been spared a place of honor on the luncheon buffet.

The mood was most convivial as Sebastian's crack team of servants circulated discreetly in and out of the crowd, offering a refreshing libation of fresh squeezed orange juice splashed with champagne for the adults and a fizzy punch made from fresh berries and lemonade for those who preferred not to imbibe. Huge polished urns of fresh coffee and tea were at the ready, as well as a generous spread of light pastries, fresh fruits ,delicate cheeses and—a private joke that Hughes would have approved-tiny two-bite quiches with spinach or mushrooms. Every hand had a cup or a glass and every face bore a smile.

Even Kelley Winchell was hard pressed to find fault with the natural beauty of the setting, although she was not overly pleased to have a uniformed Riza Hawkeye inspect her purse before letting her in. To her disappointment, she was not given a press pass. She was simply the 'plus one' escort for Gladys Turlough, which still galled her—worse, because the morning papers had trumpeted that Gladys had just become the umpteenth wife of Emperor Ling Yao. Apparently the thirty-something leader could marry anyone he wanted—and if rumors were anything close to fact—he usually did. Inspired, she pulled a small note pad out of her purse and began jotting down notes….after all, it wasn't like she had to actually talk to the Emperor to write his biography, right? She was going to be stuck with Gladys Turlough, wasn't she? All right—the Ice Cream Blonde had just married the son of a bitch. It wouldn't kill Kelley to make nice, maybe get Gladys tipsy. Kelley thought about that comment about a good gal pal, champagne and—shudder—a good manicure. Kelley had not feared to stoop to her knees to get a story. For a scoop on Emperor Ling, she decided, a bit of muff diving might be worth the money she could make on this next book. Given the preference, she would rather swallow a hefty length of hot Amestrian beef to….that. "Well," she chucked to herself, "that's one thing I have in common with the President…"

###

"And you are absolutely certain that His Excellency is protected from all sides?" Prince Sheng was soft-spoken and terribly polite, but Hawkeye could see that the young man was one of the few guests that was tense and not enjoying the festivities.

She tried to mask her annoyance. "Your Highness, I can assure you that between the palace staff, the military guards, Special Ops and Ran Fan, we are currently on full alert. If any harm comes to His Excellency, I will take full and personal responsibility. Now," she bowed briefly, "if you will excuse me, I need to assist the President."

As she marched back to the manor, the Ninth Hereditary Prince stared after her, soberly shaking his head. "It's not Father that I'm worried about…."

###

"You can't change it, Daddy! It's too late!"

"This—" Ed pointed in disgust at the elegantly tailored linen suit hanging beside the mirror in his daughter's old bedroom, "—is not gonna work. It's too white. I don't wanna hear any more 'bride' shit-'future Mr. Mustang', my ass! You gotta transmute it. Make it black or something."

Nina, when pressed, was every bit as stubborn as both of her parents. Edward's wedding suit was of a warm-shaded linen, with a waistcoat and cravat in a muted crimson brocade. The color suited Ed's coloring and the waistcoat and cravat were transmuted from the tattered remains of one of Ed's old coats—the one he had worn on the Promised day. Nina had artfully remade it and paired with the coat and trousers it looked very handsome indeed. A matching rose had been pinned in the button hole, his dark brown shoes polished until they gleamed. She had the ring on a chain around her neck for safekeeping along with an antique glass dip-pen and a sealed vial of homemade ink for the moment in the ceremony when Edward would sign the registry to make his marriage legal and binding, with Nina signing after him as his witness.

"Daddy," she told him in her most reasonable voice, "you're going to look very handsome. There's nothing remotely feminine about this."

"Brother," Al offered helpfully, "Maes and I are both wearing linen. Knowing our shared reputation, anybody says that the Elric men look like a trio of ladies is obviously nuts or suicidal." His own ensemble included a pine green waistcoat and tie, while Maes' color accents would be in a tasteful shade of slate blue.

Nina's own gown was inspired by the Gilded Era 'walking suits' for ladies—a tailored long jacket in soft, pale indigo linen over a high-necked cream-colored blouse and a long, sweeping skirt to match the jacket, both trimmed in soutache embroidery in a deeper blue, a petite hat trimmed in fresh blossoms and a bit of tulle veiling completing her ensemble. "We're a very handsome family, Daddy, and you're going to look wonderful. Now," she urged, "don't be silly. Get dressed, and I'll comb out your hair—you're going to wear it down, right?"

"Wrong!" Ed growled. "That's all I need, since my hair's longer than most of the women around here—ah, give me that damn thing! Too late to change. Fuck it!"

After Ed slammed the bedroom door behind him, Nina and Alphonse exchanged relieved glances. "One less thing to worry about," Al sighed, kissing his niece on the cheek.

"But a bloody important one," she assured him, shaking her head. Her father might have grown older and taller since his days at the Fullmetal Alchemist but his pigheadedness, judging from his current behavior, hadn't changed one damn iota.

###

"We've come for the sheep, Sir."

At the gate, Havoc was not amused. Bad enough he had several dozen protesters outside the main gate waving signs and yelling at the guests as Havoc checked them in.

He examined their passes. "Should have been here yesterday. Look," he gestured with his cigarette, "go 'round by the stable entrance. Load 'em up fast and get 'em out of here. We got a wedding in an hour." He scribbled a quick note and passed it to the driver. "Give that to Charlie at the back entrance. Make it fast and quiet."

He radioed Charlie to advise him to let the van in. "Roger that," the soldier replied. "Where's Colonel Hawkeye? Isn't she supposed to be overseeing gate security?"

"Never mind," Havoc answered briskly. "Carry on, Charlie."

Carry on, he worried privately. Riza's gonna carry on and make a fool of herself and Mustang's not gonna like coming out of his tent on his honeymoon and find her sitting outside making those lonesome eyes at him. Damn, Riza….what the hell is wrong with you?

###

Don't.

That's what she wanted to tell him.

All these years, Roy….I know years ago we talked about it, but…I can't help this. And once you sign that registry….

Once Roy Mustang signed that registry and license he and Edward could go together where she could not follow. He had as good as said so. "I've promised Edward that one day we will travel together. Amestris will need an ambassador someday, maybe sooner than we think. With radio and air travel and faster ships, the world is getting smaller. Already there are travelers making contact with nations on the other side of the oceans. So far, these have been peaceful. In time we will want to reach out to them officially. Ed thinks I'm the one to do it."

And he will sail or fly away….and leave me with nothing.

She felt sick. She didn't know what to say-didn't know what she wanted of him, other than to stay by his side, as long as she lived. But the years were ticking away and nothing had been said—he'd made no mention of how she figured into his future plans. Once he married Edward, things would change beyond her reckoning.

Her hand was shaking slightly as she turned the door knob-

"Your place is at the gates, Colonel." Sebastian's voice was firm. "He is with his family now, preparing for his nuptials. If you truly want to serve him, do your job."

Her voice was tight with anger. "You are in no position-"

He pointed to the Special Ops badge—so tiny it nearly escaped the eye beside the butler's badge on his lapel. ""On the contrary, Ma'am. There are protesters outside the wall. We have a royal guest in our midst. You must place the safety of this event above your own…emotions—"
He was stepping into the hall. Her mouth went dry. Her poise evaporated and it took a Herculean effort to keep her face arranged in the mask of cool efficiency he had expect of her since he had hand-picked her for his team so many years ago. "Sir, I-"

He frowned. "Colonel, is there a problem on the perimeter? Who's manning the gates?"

"Major Havoc is—"

"I trust you to watch my back. Today more so than ever. Not just for me but for the Emperor's safety. I am relying on you, Hawkeye."

She snapped to attention. "Yes sir," And he was gone, Maes and Collins close behind. Maes was dapper and grinning, joking about misplacing the ring, Collins suggesting that perhaps he should keep it safe until the ceremony. Mustang was laughing out loud, obviously in excellent spirits. Sebastian stood waiting patiently for her to leave for her post.

This time, it seemed, she was the useless one. She nodded once to the butler and headed for the gate. What ever chance she might have had—for whatever good it might have done to change Roy Mustang's mind or get his attention—was over and done.

###

Kelley Winchell cringed. A milky-smooth arm slid thru hers. "Hiya, Toots!" A slim hand waved under the writer's nose, bearing a gold band with a dragon engraved on it, studded with a ruby big enough to choke on. "Lookit what Kingy gave me! All his foreign wives get rubies, an' he says if we split I can sell it for a fortune. Ain't love grand?" Gladys dabbed at her mascara'ed eyes with a lacy hankie. "An' he's so swell, I just might stay with him. We don't even haveta live together—an' he don't care if I go with girls. He says the more the merrier. 'Course, it's no sweat doin' it with him, 'cause he's got just the longest-"

"Shut up."

"-thing. My pillow name for him is Long Ling, but I like to call him Kingy too—"

"I said shut up!"

"Fine! Whatevah!" Gladys sniffed. "Some fun date you turned out to be!"

On second thought, Kelley Winchell decided, I'll have to get my dirt from another source—maybe another tramp stupid enough to marry him. I'd rather cut off my tongue than—

The grip on her arm tightened. "Oh, here they come! Don't they both look swell?"

They did, indeed…

###

Ed stopped in his tracks so abruptly that Nina almost ran into his back. "Damn." He stared at Roy and had to fight an irresistible urge to chew out the zipper of Roy's dark wool trousers. The man looked good. He knew damn well he looked good and was insufferably smug about it. Ed intended to wipe that smile off Roy's face with a couple of very energetic thrusts that would, he determined, require the services of a chiropractor to get Roy's jaw back into working order.

Roy paused. A slow, approving smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. He made a mental note to get Ed out of that handsome outfit as quickly and obscenely as possible, even if it meant violating social etiquette and reaming him in the lavatory before luncheon was served. Good thing there was plenty of butter on the banquet table. Roy—no—Ed—was going to need it.

As was the custom, they entered from opposite sides, having flipped a coin to see who came in by the 'bride side'. Ed had lost, suspecting that Roy had somehow rigged the toss. His eyes swept the assembled crowd, his wary glare daring anyone to giggle or poke fun at him. There was a soft laugh, however, from Alphonse. "Get over yourself, Ed! Isn't this about love?"

Yeah.

Al was right. Ed loved that smooth, smug, arrogant, vain, manipulative son of a bitch, standing there, waiting for him before the old magistrate of Central, Judge Takei. Even if Roy's dick fell off, Ed still loved him. Love was what kept two people from killing each other after they climbed out of bed, wasn't it? Love was what kept you around after facing the horrors of using the shitter after each other. Love was sleeping on the wet spots even though you knew it wasn't your turn. Love was Roy always knowing how to fix Ed's coffee, bringing him a cup when Ed was lost in a book. Love was Ed nursing Roy through that terrible pneumonia that nearly killed him, even when the fever dreams made Roy cry out for a long dead lover Ed had ceased to be jealous of.

Love was Roy in a tent in the middle of the night, cuddling and whispering to a terrified Nina and Maes when the distant howling of a wolf in the woods startled them. Love was Ed losing at poker to Aunt Chris—and paying up with a grin.

Love was a thousand and one moments, many dull and every day. Acts of kindness, great and small. Irritations and annoyances, filed away as 'not worth fighting over'. Love was a touch on the shoulder in passing, an arm across the chest draped comfortingly as they slept. Love was a thousand moments—and a thousand more—that told Edward and Roy 'we are good together'.

It was good. It was worth it and they both wanted more of it. Ed grinned and accepted the ring and the pen and ink from his daughter and joined Roy Mustang before the magistrate, slapping his lover lightly on the shoulder. "Let's do this."

Magistrate Takei's voice was splendid—rich and respectful as he took a simple length of red silk cord and bound it loosely over their joined hands—a nod to an old Isballan belief that marriage bound two bloodlines together. To Roy, as unsentimental as he was, it was a pledge that he would acknowledge Ed's children as his own. When Ed understood what this meant, he readily agreed to the gesture.

"We are here to join Edward Elric and Roy Mustang together in a mutual agreement of marriage. It is fitting and appropriate that you—their friends and families and well-wishers—are present to witness this agreement. For the ideals, the understandings and mutual commitment they bring to this agreement has its roots in the love and friendship and guidance you have given them. The union of two people makes us aware of the changes wrought by time." There was loud sniff from Alex Armstrong, and Izumi tenderly clasped Sig's hand. "But the new relationship between Edward and Roy that begins this day will continue to draw much of its strength and meaning from those who have supported and loved them through the years."

Riza Hawkeye stepped out from behind the trees and stood silently beside Maes. Roy did not notice, his eyes meeting Edward's, steady and clear and confident.

"Also we bear in mind those who have passed through the Gateway. Your parents, your family and friends. We remember them and honor their memories, knowing that friendship and love is not a thing bound by the limits of human imagination. They are with you still and we remember them." Gracia blinked back her tears and smiled. Maes had always wanted to see Roy happily married. It was coming to pass at last.

"These are the words of the desert poets: 'your task, Edward and Roy, is to not to seek for love from one another, but instead to seek and find all the barriers within yourselves that you have built against it. Let yourselves be silently drawn to the stronger wisdom of what you truly honor in one another. And think not that you can direct the course of this love—for love, when it finds you worthy, directs your course."

It's all so lovely, Elycia sighed to herself. The soft spring wind lifting, carrying the scent of green and growing things and making the candles flicker on the magistrate's podium. Beside her, Cameron Howe became suddenly aware at how lovely she was and how idiotic he had been not to notice this before. How lucky he had been that that dreadful Kelley Winchell had caused such a fuss with her tawdry book on the President, setting off such an unlikely chain of events that led to him sitting beside what he suspected was the most wonderful girl in Amestris…

"Roy…Edward. At this moment, look to one another and think upon all you have been to each other for so many years—as lovers, confidants, friends, -even to the times when you were at odds with one another. Think of the times you have fought for the same causes, for the sakes of others. From this day forward, may you always fight on the same side." There was a good deal of affectionate laughter at this from the crowd and the two grooms themselves. "Now, speak your vows to one another—and remember, from this moment, things will never be the same…"

The breeze had picked up just a little and Nina felt the veiling of her hat slip a bit to one side. She lifted her hand to adjust it….

Her arm began to burn "Oh!" She touched her sleeve and saw the red stains on her fingers. It was only then that she was aware that she had heard the shots, that her father was screaming and that her beloved Poppy had dropped suddenly to his knees…

And time—suddenly…horribly-slowed to a crawl as the world went white before her eyes…..

….TO BE CONTINUED….