Captain Roy Mustang, head of the Avian Fleet, twenty-nine years old and shamefully attractive dared to do something no man has ever done before and survived to tell the tale. He allowed his eyes to trail unabashedly up and down Edward Elric's body, taking in the boy's firm stature and lean build, ghosting over his pale skin and landing finally on those golden eyes which reminded him slightly of honey, if honey could sparkle from within. The boy was a picture of anger at Mustang's forwardness, bristling and not noticing his wings flaring from reflex.

Edward growled. "Alright, Mustang? What were the last eight words I said?"

Mustang smirked. "What were the last eight words I said."

It took Edward a moment to realise that it was an answer, not a question, and he frowned. "Before that." He snapped, leaning forward.

Roy smiled. "Fish, Chips and seventeen different types of cheese." He answered. "Come now, Edward, While as... avid as your guess might be, I'm not actually made of that. Nor of pineapples (whatever they are), nor of bovine leavings."

The boy, caught off guard for a moment, simply stared. Then he seemed to relocate himself. "Would it kill you to look like you're paying attention?" He demanded. "You leave me with inklings of information, and now, when I actually try and confirm what I THINK might be true, you bait me, lead me around by the nose and don't give me a straight answer!" If looks could kill, Roy would probably be ashes by now under the glare Princess was giving him.

"I have to keep myself amused somehow." He replied to the avian teen. "The ship is rather boring once you know the whole thing."

"And now you're making fucking wisecracks and still looking at me like I'm some kind of deli special!"

"You're not adverse to it?" The black haired man replied in even tones, once again duelling with death for the sake of five minutes amusement in the form of Edward Elric flailing.

He was not disappointed as the boy did indeed flail, splutter and cough, and it cost Mustang most of his resolve to keep from laughing. 'OF COURSE IM FUCKING ADVERSE TO IT!" The prince screamed, arms windmilling dangerously, feathers bristling, and hair flapping in a way that didn't seem physically possible. Mustang reflected briefly that people down the other end of the ship would have most likely heard that cry. He coughed quickly to cover a snicker as Edward inflated dangerously in front of him.

Mustang bit his lip to prevent his amusement from showing. "Because, you know, there are many women on this ship who would love to have my company ravished on them as such."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Edward Elric yelled and tried to leap the desk, sending paperwork and blueprints flying, all coupled with a yell of "WHO ARE YOU CALLING A LITTLE GIRL WHO PLAYS ONLY WITH DOLLS!"

Though slightly alarmed, Roy was still far too amused to care as his office was destroyed by a tornado wearing black and with red wings. "Edward." He said with a chortle he couldn't quite contain. "I do believe you came in here to ask me a question. Killing me would do no good to your cause as I, as the captain of this ship, am the only one aboard this ship with the intelligence you require."

This had an instant calming effect and Edward sat down stubbornly, arms folded, legs crossed and golden eyes glaring. "What is the house of Alphonse Elric's birth, you shithead?" He asked with a glare, remembering the sole reason why he was here in the first place.

With a casual flick of his hair, Roy mustang sighed and replied, "It is Elric, Princess. As I'm sure you've worked out. He is, your brother."

This caused the diverse teen in front of him to fall silent, his moods playing across his face with such accuracy that Mustang didn't even have to read his mind to know what was going through that head of his. Shock, apprehension, wonder, fear, a strange sense of knowing, anger, love, joy, confusion, all played out like a symphony on the bronzed features of the prince. "Why doesn't he know?" Was the question Edward seemed to decide upon within his shock.

"Because he doesn't need to." Roy replied evenly. He was playing coy, and he knew Edward knew it. It was only a matter of time before the boy asked his next question. He seemed to be turning white-blue. "I would breathe, Princess. You don't want to asphyxiate and make my struggle to find you all for nothing, do you?"

Edward growled, but it was weak and had no feeling. He was starting to shake. "Why doesn't he know? Why couldn't you have told me?" He muttered before rolling off on a tangent of incoherent mumblings.

Roy felt his resolve softening. He was being cruel and he knew it. "Because I knew you would react this way." He said; standing and moving around the desk to place a comforting hand on the teen's shoulder. Edward leaned into it, which made Roy's eyebrow rise. "It was also a protective measure installed by the previous captain based on the last wish of your mother. She died just after giving birth to Alphonse. He was a breach birth. A woman like that, to go through having to leave her husband, having one of her children stolen, and then to meet her death so calmly. Your mother was so incredibly selfless. Her last words were to make me promise that no child of hers would be an infant king."

Edward looked up. "You knew my mother?"

Roy nodded at the teen, the pangs the memory brought quickly disregarded. "She was a beautiful woman." He said it in the tone of finality. He would not say any more on the matter today. "In any case, after her death, Alphonse was placed into the care of a boy barely fourteen and a half. It was the same boy who had looked after his brother and who had accidentally caused that brother to be taken by the humans. The boy, unable to face the guilt of looking after the brother of the child he lost gave Alphonse to Izumi and Seig Curtis in light of their recent stillbirth." He closed his eyes, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles over Edward's shoulder. He wasn't sure if it was for the boy or for himself.

Edward's hand graced his own in something almost warning, so he pulled back, opening his eyes to see that wide eyed face. "You asked." He said.

Edward nodded. "I did." He acknowledged. "What happened to the boy?"

"He grew up. He fought in a war that never should have happened and watched many companions and friends die. He never stopped searching for a baby that should not have been lost. He researched, manipulated and nearly killed himself from malnutrition while looking, and more than half a lifetime later, he found his prize."

Those expressive golden eyes widened a fraction. "You..."

Roy laughed shakily. Let it never be said that the Prince was not a smart one. "Because the boy knew that the first time he met the baby that they were connected some way. He didn't understand it then, and he probably still doesn't now. He knew that there was something special about that child, and that there was some purpose in him being born."

Edward was at a loss for words. "...Thank you."

"No." Said Mustang. "I was only doing something that needed to be done."

Unbidden, memories of words floated through Roy's thoughts of one of his conversations with his best friend over a dimly lit monitor screen around midnight years ago. "Hughes. As mad as this sounds, I think I have found my Only."

"And now, what does the boy think the baby should do?" Asked Edward, as Roy shook the words away. "After all, he doesn't want to be obsolete."

Mustang smiled at the boy's attempt at humour. "You could win a war." He said softly.

Mustang's innocent comment had started quite the row in his office and it was much later when Edward had only just noticed Hawkeye coming in with a round of paperwork for the captain (the pile was nearly taller than her head, so Edward had recognised her by the flash of blue uniform he had never seen her out of.) that mustang had started to really yell.

The argument had started when Mustang had questioned what side of the battle Edward was really on. Edward had retorted that as a person who had lived most of their life as a human, it would be hard to betray them. Mustang had snapped that Edward should just fight for his people and get it over with and from there it had descended into the realm of a screaming match.

"As an avian PRINCE it is you goddamn DUTY to fight in the war." The man bit out now, a crinkling in his brow breaking his otherwise rocklike pose and his smouldering black eyes demonstrating how angry he truly was. Lisa had hurried out of the room after one look at her commander.

"And as someone who knows I've been living as a human for the past fifteen fucking years you should give me some leeway!" Edward demanded back, trying hard to control the frustrated scream building up inside his chest. It was like talking to a brick wall and three times less productive. The man simply wouldn't back down from his morals.

"You don't get it Edward. It's not a matter of choice, of picking and choosing which aspects of our culture you took up when you became one of us. It's all or nothing." He said.

Edward glowered. "You're telling me you want me to fight humans, my friends and the people who I've considered family just because I have wings now? You're telling me to give up the humanity I've relied on for fifteen years and just become something that I was but am not now? You don't get it Mustang; you're the one who doesn't understand. Even though I know I'm not, I still see myself as a human. Fifteen years is hard to overcome."

"And you've had three months to overcome it already!" The man growled angrily. "It's all about you, isn't it, Edward? Do you really think that the war would be better or worse for anyone else on this ship? How do you think Hughes feels coming home to his family after every battle, knowing he has killed and has had blood on his hands of people who have had a family of their own? How do you think poor Alphonse feels, when he hates blood, but his illusions on the battlefield produce most of it, and off field he trains desperately to be a surgeon so he can absolve for the lives he's taken/ how do you think Lisa feels when she goes out there to protect everyone and comes back with yet more paperwork to force me to fill out?"

Edward deflated, his anger overtaken by Mustang's rage.

"And how do you think I feel at the end of the day knowing that I was the one who sent them out there to do it? That I ordered them to kill and to do the best job of it they could? And then, there's me at the end of the day, unable to lie and say that everything's going to be alright, because Edward, it's not. It's never going to be alright, because there are broken families out there, broken people who never want to see the light of day again. Because that's what war is, Edward. It's all one big loss."

Edward glared. "Then why don't you do your dancing around the truth act and convince the humans to stop fighting."

Mustang gave a small snort. "Do you think," he snapped; eyes ablaze with a fury that Edward had never seen before, "That I want to be unable to lie? Do you think that this dance of manipulation is fun, Edward Elric, Highness, whatever the hell you want to be called? I have to be on my toes, finding truths to dance with, manipulate those apes down there on that planet with. It would be easier to lie and get it over and done with."

Edward backed away slightly, recoiling in a tiny amount of fear. "...No, but..."

The captain growled, his obsidian eyes glittering. "You can only get one thing with sacrificing another, Princess. You gained a place where you belonged by sacrificing a family. Do you even think about the rabbits anymore, as busy as you are with your duties? Have you thought about that Winry girl you were so convinced set you up ever since you arrived on this ship?"

"I..." Edward gasped, cowering.

"No, you haven't. You think you can just burn your bridges behind you, don't you, forget what has happened to date with your life. It's because I couldn't forget that you are even here Edward. Because I didn't give up on what everyone else thought was a fable. You're an incredibly selfish person, Highness." Mustang gasped, seeming to come to his senses once more. "Leave. I have a battle to plan. Whether you're a part of it or not."

Released, Edward fled.

He sat in his room in the dark some time later.

Mustang's right. I don't deserve to be the prince of these people.

I can't even fight in one battle for them.

I can't face up to the fact I'm not a human anymore. But I have to, don't I? The wings proved it.

I grew up in a lie. Now I have the truth, I suppose. Heh. Mustang. He can't lie, but that doesn't necessarily mean he'll tell the truth.

A baby screamed in the darkness, an open-mouthed cry against Edward's closed eyelids. Sharp, cutting voices hissed in the darkness, the words staccato and quick in a language Edward couldn't even begin to understand only two words over all, a warning cry of "Roy Mustang" and then more of the gibberish.

He heard the man's voice, younger than it had been today, and almost frightened. It seemed strange to consider that that man could be afraid of anything. It was once again the strange language, and Edward realised that they must have been talking in the original avian dialect.

A whoosh of air indicated a door had opened somewhere and what sounded like a muffled curse, no it was a curse, Edward was sure, rang out through the insanely cacophonous room. The baby was still screaming its head off, gunfire now invading the scene along with the terrified screams and anguished death gurgles of those fighting. There seemed to be only a room between the fighting and where the baby was, the screams of the child increasing in pitch as the war grew closer and closer and death yells became more and more frequent.

A warm voice spoke to the child, a motherly voice, and the baby calmed. Edward had never felt more confused in his life. If he could just understand what was being said...

And then the gunfire grew closer and the baby's wails started again as a moment of hushed and disjointed language filled the room. A single shot rang out, and a loud 'thunk.' And then footfalls were taking the child's wails out of the room, and a voice spoke in broken English, "hush, little angel, I'll take care of you."

Edward Elric awoke with a start.

There comes a point in every existence where an important, life-changing decision must be made. Edward, lying on a futon-like mat in a lightly furbished room somewhere in the bowels of a ship two miles long was making one such decision. It was one he thought he had already made three months ago before he'd been requested to fight in a war he never wanted to be part of in the first place. It was when the text based message, short and sharp, demanding he come to a war meeting, came that he realised he hadn't made the choice yet, and that he better make it soon before more people were killed through his lack of judgement.

Pounding out behind him was an erratic song with no real beat. The melodies of the instruments were intertwined so cleverly that what should have been a hideous mix of sound became something highly pleasant to listen to. It was human music, and his favourite song. It always had been even when he was young.

Edward sighed, bending to the comfort of the music. All his life he had lived as a human and done human things. However, the last three months, he had found out quite quickly that he wasn't human and there was a whole new world awaiting him if he could just grasp it. He had 'become' an avian, but that wasn't quite right, either, because an avian was something he always had been, but had never realised it.

"Existence is a state of mind, not of being." He quoted a timeless saying that someone had told him once. He had thought of himself as a human for fifteen years. Didn't that classify him as one? Or did the wings that graced his sides and spread out magnificently either side of him make that all a lie? He had a brother here, real family.

But back ho... on Earth, didn't he have a sister? What else was Winry? But he supposed she would hate him now for what he had become. The wings symbolised everything she hated and wanted to get revenge upon.

There really was no going back now, Edward supposed. Not now that he had tasted flight, and had a blood brother to share the experience with. Not now that he had found a culture that accepted him for what he was and didn't ask questions or send him strange looks when he mentioned wanting to see a mountain, even if only in the distance. He didn't have to put up with Paul Psychologist-who-got-his-degree-from-a-Weeties-box Duncan stealing his money three times a week for however many weeks. Winry would be better off thinking him dead, he supposed, that way she could get her revenge and not feel guilty about betraying her friend.

Sure, Edward would be burning a bridge and severing all connections with his home of fifteen years, but he had a new home now, and like Mustang said, a duty.

Something slid on his chest, and he reached for it, holding it up to the light. It was his flamel necklace, the one he'd had ever since he was a child and he watched it dangling between his fingers, the ruby eyes of the snake glinting in the light. The same flamel symbol in nearly the same design sat in the centre of a crown he had worn for his introduction to the masses and hadn't even touched since. It sat on a cabinet to one side of the room, next to a walk in closet that contained both the clothes he had been given by the tailors of the ship and the ones he had from Earth.

He put on the crown now, the metal cool against his forehead, comforting against the throbbing headache that was starting to form there. It was more a tiara than a crown, he supposed, a band that wrapped around his forehead, with a ruby drop that rapped against his nose bridge whenever he moved in the slightest. He attacked his hair with the loose handled brush he'd brought with him, pulling it up into a high tail that fell to about his upper middle back.

He turned off the music.

He shrugged off the clothes he had been wearing and peered into the closet at the ones the avian tailors had made. All the shirts he had brought with him had holes ripped up their sides to accommodate his two new appendages while the avian ones were designed to do that, and even used this as part of their flair. He pulled one of the simple black tank tops over his head, thankful that they had remembered he was a teenager and had no need for regal outfits. Following this was a jacket with a silver clasp and white lining.

After much debate, he threw the black slacks the tailors had made to one side, shucking on instead his favourite pair of leather pants and a large brown belt with a military style buckle. He was about to turn away from the closet when something caught his eye. Something red.

"Hello." He said as he pulled the red garment out. "I like the look of you." It was a cloak; there was no other word for it, made of a soft, light and warm material with a hood attached to the back, and a much simpler design of the symbol of completion on the back. He put it on cautiously, and as if by a miracle, it hung off his shoulders just the right way. "I really like you." he told his new favourite piece of clothing. Smirking to himself, he went off in search of Mustang.

The man was right, after all.

Mustang rested his hands on the desk in front of him, trying to hide his frustration. He looked about the room at the delegates gathered. Hughes was going through a photo album with Cain, who just looked like he wanted to get away. Jean havoc, a two-toned blonde with a long face and bright blue eyes was attempting to balance a pencil on the end of his nose, while a redhead (Breda) cheered him on and an aging man stood at attention and made 'tutting' noises. He could always trust Falman to be the smart one in these situations, he supposed.

Lisa frowned at him from by the door. "I don't think he's coming, Sir." She said. 'He's fifteen minutes late."

Mustang nodded. "Well, we'll have to start the meeting in any case."

At this everyone snapped to attention and Roy felt a flash of pride for the people under his command. He nodded as Lisa took her seat. "In that case, declare the floor..."

"Sorry I'm late." Said a voice from the entrance. All heads turned and there was Princess, leaning against the doorframe and looking positively smug. Roy rolled his eyes. The teen had sure cut it fine. "I had some issues I needed to think out." Princess said with a significant look in Roy's direction.

He nodded in return. "And what was your decision?" he asked with just a touch of curiosity.

Edward gave a fierce grin, sitting down at the last empty chair on the table, wings folded neatly at his sides and golden eyes burning. "I will fight for my people." He said.

Roy held back his giddy laugh with some difficulty.

End Part One.

A/n: And there you have it, the close of the first part of this fic. Still two left, and the action definitely picks up from this point in. Thanks for sitting patient through the overload of dialogue!

Next part we will actually see some of the war. -shockhorrorgasp!- Yes, I haven't forgot that there is one meant to be going on. But still.

Thanks once again for such an amazing response to this fiction. You guys are awesome.

Also, guys, check me out on LiveJournal, I'm HakuNeko. I'm just getting used to that place, so don't mind me if my stuff looks horrible at the moment, I'm getting better. -/selfpimpage-

Leave a review for a hungry Authoress? -shakes her little, slightly beaten up can-