Part Two

Through dawn and noon she waited for his return. But he did not. She would not hear of her lover till night.

At sunset, when it seemed he had to show soon or he could be confirmed dead, they appeared. A redcoat troop, King George's men, came marching from the east. And they stopped, right up at the old inn door.

They did not state their business to the landlord, for they did not have to. They were the King's men, no other explanation was needed. So no act of protest could be made when they grabbed Winry and bound her with ropes at the foot of her bed. Two of the soldiers knelt at her window with muskets at their side. There was death at every window; and hell at one dark window. For through Winry's window they could clearly see the path the highwayman would ride.

Once she was tied up they tied a musket below her breast. "Now, keep good watch," they said as they kissed her goodbye. The left towards downstairs where they would prepare to grab the highwayman.

Edward's last words to her echoed in her head and she knew just when he would appear again. "Look for me by moonlight. Watch for me in the moonlight. I'll come to thee in the moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

She twisted and writhed her hands but the knots were good and tight. They were soon covered in sweat and blood as the movements of roughly woven rope against soft, pale flesh broke skin. But she did not stop and her hands continued clawing for freedom. Till midnight, she finally managed to grab hold of the trigger of the musket. It was now hers'.

The lone finger managed to move the musket's muzzle towards her chest. Right over her heart. And she watched the blackened road, awaiting her lover's return.

The galloping of a horse's hooves could be heard in the distance. All but just a small speck, Edward could be seen in the distance. Riding towards the door of the old inn. The redcoats prepared themselves for what would be a fight to the death. Winry prepared herself, for this would be the last time she would see her lover.

He drew closer and she took one last deep breath. Then her grip on the trigger tightened.

The shot rang through the quiet night. Ripping apart all silence. Edward turned and looked upwards through Winry's bedroom window. His face fell gray as he saw her. Tears threatened to rise, his throat closed up.

Blood streamed down from the gaping hole over her heart. She was as pale as a ghost in the moonlight. Eyes open but lifeless. Winry Rockbell, the landlord's daughter, had sacrificed herself for the life of Edward Elric. She had watched for him in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

He was apt to pick up on her warning signal. As he saw the redcoats were drawing near. He cursed the sky for her death and spun his horse around. He waved his rapier threateningly at the redcoats. As he made the dash for his life.

But blood bosomed on his coat. Three holes where agape on his chest. One directly through his heart. His heart that had beat so strongly for justice to the poor and love for Winry Rockbell. His horse was down too. And they fell in death on the highway. Down like a dog on the highway. And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.

And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is is the trees, when the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, when the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, the highwayman comes riding, riding, riding, up to the old in door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs on the shudders, but all is locked and barred. He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there, but the landlord's black-eyed daughter, Winry, the landlord's daughter. Plaiting a dark red love knot into her long blonde hair.

A/N: I read this poem in reading class and just had to rewrite it for FMA. I just had to. I recommend reading the poem. It's actually very good.